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The  Dying  Musician 


MARY  ELIZABETH  POWELL 


Boston:   Richard  G.  Badger 
or&a 

1906 


Copyright  1905  by  MARY  K.  POWELL 


^4//  rights  reserved 


n 


PRINTED  AT 

THE  GORHAM   PRESS 

BOSTON,   U.S.A. 


THE  DYING  MUSICIAN 


The   Dying   Musician 


i 

EVENING 


Courage,  thou  soul  of  mine !     Not  long  —  not  long 

Will  linger  time!     Life's  day  is  nearly  done! 
A  few  more  hours,  and  then  —  the  angel's  song ! 

The  victor's  palm!     The  everlasting  sun 
Of  righteousness  will  rise  with  healing  wings! 

In  that  blest  life  so  soon  to  be  begun 
Earth's  woes  will  be  as  ne'er  remembered  things! 
And  thou  wilt  quaff  the  sparkling  streams  that  run 

From   fountains   whence   love's   pure   fulfillment 
springs ! 


Though  darkness  falls,  the  heavens  are  wondrous 

clear 

And  from  my  window's  height  I  see  afar 
The  pale  moon  rising  in  the  east,  while  near 
Her  silver  horn  there  sinks  one  glowing  star. 
Ah!  now  it  sets!     It  dies  with  light  unfurled 
To  rise  in  glory  on  another  world ! 
O  star  of  love !  —  that  in  my  youth  didst  rise 

So  heavenly  bright  —  but  to  be  overcast ! 
Wilt  thou  not  rise  again  on  fairer  skies 

And  shine  with  all  the  radiance  of  the  past? 


M191861 


And  Friend,  my  truest  Friend,  when  it  shall  be 

That    all    my    feeble   strength,    and    breath    are 

spent 
Should  any  standing  near  weep  over  me 

Say,  that  though  early  called,  I  was  content. 
And  though  to  thee  too  harsh  may  seem  the  fate 

That  calls  me  thus  in  life's  full  prime  away 
Shed  thou  no  tears,  for  from  death's  opening  gate 

I  glimpse  the  radiance  of  a  brighter  day. 

4 

Yea!  even  when  I  sink  in  weakness  low 

My  spirit  thrills  with  mystic  power  divine, 
As  if  from  death  a  healing  fount  did  flow; 

What  love,  what  rapt  devotion  then  is  mine! 
And  oft  in  waking  dreams  I  seem  to  list 

To  low,  soft  songs,  more  sweet  than  earth's  may 

be, 
Then  joy  flows  round  me  like  a  golden  mist 

Charmed  amid  waves  of  heavenly  harmony. 


And  with  those  notes,  —  soft  as  Eolian  strains 

Blown  by  Aurora  on  the  breath  of  Morn,  — 
A  perfect  peace  descends,  freed  from  all  pains 

I  seem  on  wings  of  blissful  sound  upborne 
To  higher  spheres,  where  palely  radiant  forms 

Divinely  fair  float  heaven  and  earth  between  — 
Love's  glow  of  pure  desire  my  spirit  warms 

And  then  I  sink,  —  as  now  —  to  rest  serene. 


II 

MORNING 

i 

I  thought  to  pass  last  night,  but  with  the  light 

Nature  revives,  and  as  the  expiring  ray 
Of  the  spent  taper  grows  in  death  more  bright 

Thus  strength  returns  as  life's  flame  wastes  away. 
And  thou  hast  watched  all  night  my  friend  o'er  me — 

God  bless  thee  for  a  love  which  never  tires! 
Come  near  —  I've  something  I  would  say  to  thee 

To  thee  alone,  —  ere  life's  last  gleam  expires. 


One  day,  — 'twas  several  weeks  —  nay,  months  — 

ago 

Thou  didst  inquire  concerning  my  past  life; 
Thy  love   for  me  being  great,   thou  fain  wouldst 

know 

The  hist'ry  of  my  early  toils  and  strife. 
Since  then  I've  traced  the  record.  —  Duly 

'Twas  finished.     Here's  the  scroll.     Slowly  I 

wrought 

In  weakness,  yet  tried,  disguising  nought 
To  tell  of  life  and  of  a  love  that  truly 

Was  my  soul's  life,  —  the  essence  of  my  thought. 


I  could  not  speak  of  it  —  I  have  not  breathed 

To  living  ears  the  tale  I've  traced  for  thee:  — 
Record     of     months     that     love     with     garlands 

wreathed  — 

Love  that  to  death  alone  conducted  me. 
What  hours  were  those!     Their  memory  thrills  me 
still 


When   the  whole  world  seemed   only  hers  and 

mine 
Such  full  content,  such  joy  did  me  then  fill 

That   peccant   earth   seemed   more   than   heaven 

divine. 


Open  this  casket,   Friend,  it  will  disclose 

The  hoarded  treasures  of  those  happy  days; 
They  are  but  few,  —  only  a  withered  rose  — 

A  curl,  as  golden  bright  as  noon  day  rays; 
A  little  note,  discolored  by  the  soil 

Of  constant  touch  and  tears  from  these  poor  eyes : 
Mementos  dear!  from  which  though  faded  all 

Sweet  odors  from  a  perfumed  past  arise. 


This  rose,  —  'tis  brittle,  dry,  and  dead  —  dost  see? 

And  hueless,  yet  its  hist'ry  will  reveal 
A  story  of  such  love  and  constancy 

As  hearts  of  deepest  strength  alone  may  feel. 
My  rose  of  love !  —  thou  wert  a  wintry  one ! 

Whose  bright  bloom  faded  long  and  long  ago 
And  perished  when  grew  pale  that  summer's  sun. 

(Ah  me,  the  thorns  remained !)     Yet  well  I  know 
Its  roots  contained  a  germ  that  in  some  clime  — 

Some  fairer  world,  will  to  perfection  grow 
And  bud  and  bloom,  a  flower  of  love  divine. 

As  far  surpassing  such  that  earth  doth  show 

As  heaven  itself  surpasses  all  below. 


But  read  the  tale.    Then  should  thy  judgment  move 
To  censure  harsh,  for  having  dared  to  love 
(E'en  as  great  Tasso)  one  above  me  far 
And  hopeless  of  attainment  as  a  star  — 
My  one  defense,  —  even  as  his  —  must  be 

4 


"  Because  I  loved,  what  not  to  love  and  see 
Was  more  or  less  than  mortal  and  than  me!  " 


But  all  is  ended  now  the  grief,  the  wrong,  — 

And,  as  'tis  said  that  drowning  men  recall 
In  one  last  moment  swift  their  whole  life  long, 

And  live  again  each  scene,  —  so  now  doth  all 
The  past  return,  —  a  swiftly  changing  throng, 

Of  scenes,  and  forms  I  loved     .     .     .     around  me 

press  — 
And  pass  away  —  soft  words  of  thrilling  tone  — 

Thoughts  that  the  human   tongue  may  not  ex 
press 
Through  strange  and  subtler  senses  are  made  known. 

8 

And  ah,  —  again  I  see  her  dear  eyes  shine ! 

That  face  —  which  ever  in  my  heart  I  bear 
Bends  smiling  tow'rds  me  —  every  thought  of  mi'nc 

Again,  as  in  the  past,  with  her  I  share. 
Songs — low  and  sweet  —  seem  falling  on  my  ears — 

Old  summer  eves!  faint,  fleeting,  fragments,  rise, 
Out  of  that  vanished  time    .    .    .    anon  appears 

The  fountain,  terrace,  starlit  summer  skies, 

Till  reeling  seems  the  brain !  I  ope  my  eyes 

9 
Upon  the  dawn,   which  brighter   grows  —  though 

cold, 

The  paling  stars  die  on  Aurora's  breast 
And  though  but  half  of  life  alone  is  told 

I  am  content  to  go;  —  God  knoweth  best. 
And  e'en  as  rosy  tints  of  morning  sweet 

Through  all  the  brightening  orient  spreads  and 

flows 

Within  my  being's  inmost  depths  doth  beat 
A  subtle  joy  that  ever  grows  and  grows  — 

5 


IO 

Not  the  sweet  calm  of  an  untroubled  hour 

Not  the  Nirvana's  timeless,  dreamless,  ease 
But  joy  prophetic  of  a  greater  power, 

A  clearer  sight,  sublimer  love  and  peace. 
I  sink  —  weakness  o'er  my  frame  is  stealing  — 

My  eager  spirit  bursts  its  mortal  bars  — 
And  soars  where  love  —  eternal  —  self-revealing 

Sustains  in  bliss  realms  countless  as  the  stars !  - 


ii 

And  now !  new  life  —  my  being  penetrates  — 

My  inner  sight  glimpsing  eternity 
Perceives  that  Power  divine  which  modulates 

Life's  broken  song,   to  perfect  harmony 
With  love  whose  rhythm  fills  the  vast  abyss 

With  living  love,  heaven's  sovereign  symphony 
That  swells  and  falls  in  one  pure  strain  of  bliss 

Through   far  celestial   regions,   ceaselessly. 
Thou  last  pale  star  of  night!  —  that  linger'st  yet 

In  the  dim  east,  by  rosy  morn  impearled, 
Enshroud  thy  waning  splendor,  fade  and  set 

And  rise,  as  I,  unto  a  newer  world! 

Ill 
THE  STORY  OF  ONE  MAN'S  LOVE 


In  youth,  seen  through  a  mist  of  rosy  dreams  — 
Life  seems  a  pleasant  vale  where  every  bud 

And  every  green  and  nascent  floweret  teems 
With  promises  of  wondrous  coming  good 

I  saw  before  me  fields  of  high  renown 
6 


"  For  me,"   I   said,   "  will  bloom  the  sweets  of 

life," 

And  doubted  not  that  victory  would  crown 
The  end  of  every  just  and  noble  strife! 


As  freely  shrills  the  bird's  songs  in  spring  time 

My  spirit  too,  with  youthful  ardor  glowing 
Gushed  forth  in  music  and  unbidden  rhyme, 

E'en  as  a  fountain  filled  to  overflowing. 
And  tender  longings,  —  yearnings  uncontrolled 

Surged   through  my  heart  in  sweet  tumultuous 

strife  ; 
Unfolded  then  my  love  —  as  flowers  unfold  — 

And  flushed  to  fiery-hearted  radiant  life. 


3 

Ah  me!     Between  the  present  and  those  youthful 
dreams 

Lies    an    abyss  —  deep  —  dark  —  in    which    was 

hurled 
Love's  burning  torch,  with  whose  refulgent  beams 

Faded  the  light  that  glorified  my  world ! 
But  more  of  that  anon.     As  in  a  dream 

My  childhood's  earliest  home  I  seem  to  see  — 
The  trees,  the  mead,  the  gently  winding  stream 

And  each  loved  scene  I  knew  in  infancy. 

4 

And  mother !  —  father !     Oh  how  fondly  clings 
My  memory  still  to  each  beloved  name! 

Dead  long  ago  —  both  dead!     Oft  slumber  brings 
Their  forms  before  me  as  in  life  they  came. 

And  though  no  wealthy,  titled  race  was  mine 
How  blest  beneath  their  ever  tender  eye 

7 


Were    childhood's    hours!      They   in    my    memory 

shine 
Like  lucent  stars  against  a  darkened  sky. 


While  still  a  child,  death  laid  these  loved  ones  low: 

In  the  dear  fatherland,  beneath  the  shade 
Of  towering  lindens,  where  the  daisies  blow 

Together  side  by  side  their  dust  is  laid. 
A  little  orphan  boy!     Think  what  an  height 

Steep,  arduous,  my  feet  essayed  to  climb 
When  Music  as  an  angel  fair,  of  light 

Beckoned  me  upwards  to  her  throne  sublime! 


Aye!  but  think  again  of  all  the  dear  delight 

E'en  from  the  first,  this  angel  brought  to  me 
For  oft,  when  modulating  themes  to  keys  aright 
My  Master  cried,  his  eyes  with  joy  alight  — 

"  E'en  in  his  finger's  ends,  the  boy  has  harmony!  " 
Aye!     Even  then  to  me  were  feelings  given, 

Of  shivering  delight,  when  some  sweet  strain 
Softly  arose  —  I  felt  it  was  of  heaven 

And  filled  with  rapture  smote  the  chords  again! 


And  music  seemed  a  sweet-voiced  bird  that  sang 

Of  some  divine,  though  unknown,  mystic  land 
From  whose  supernal  shores  there  ever  rang 

Sweet  symphonies,  and  oratorios  grand 
And  as  I  older  grew,  —  clear  living  airs 

Deep,  passion-filled,  seemed  striving  to  be  heard; 
Uplifting  my  rapt  spirit  unawares 

To  where  glad  strains  my  inner  being  stirred. 
8 


8 


I  seemed  to  enter  mystic  regions  where 

Are  heard  those  "  primal  warblings,  etheric  fine 
Where  filled  with  music  is  the  very  air,"* 

And  filled  my  soul  with  harmonies  divine. 
Yet,  music  doth  a  charm  possess  beyond 

Mere  melody,  and  nothing  on  this  earth 
More  strange  than  this,  for  only  as  a  sound 

It  lives,  —  in  silence  dies,  —  yet  silence  gave  it 
birth! 


It  seems  to  come  to  us  from  some  bright  land, 

A  land  our  waking  eyes  shall  never  see, 
And  strives  to  tell  us,  —  make  us  understand 

Some  strange  sweet  secret  of  eternity. 
And  it  is  not  mere  sequences  of  sound,  — 

Of  chords  harmonious,  strains  of  euphony, 
But  breathes  all  thoughts,  all  feelings  that  are  found 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  humanity. 


10 


And  all  the  stars  that  gem  the  dome  of  heaven 

To    me    were    "  Quiring    spheres "    scintillating 

song ; 
And  misty  isles  of  cloudland  when  wind  driven 

Rang  with  Eolian  flutings  all  day  long; 
Soft  winds  to  flowers  breathed  in  low  melodies; 

Bright  fountains  gushed  in  music  as  they  fell; 
While  sombre  pines  whispered  sad  threnodies 

To  my  rapture  in  every  shady  dell. 


*  Emerson. 


II 

When  mornings  brake,  grand  as  the  deep  abyss 

Of  that  eternity  from  whence  they  came; 
Would  dreamlike,  mystic  strains  of  rhythmic  bliss 

Steal  o'er  my  spirit  from  those  clouds  of  flame. 
And  when  night's  gloom  stole  softly  o'er  the  earth 

It  seemed  a  requiem  to  the  dying  day 
And  fancy  deemed  a  pensive  sigh  breathed  forth 

When  darkness  shrouded   day's  last  glimmering 
ray. 

12 

Even  nature's  forms  to  me  were  harmonies :  — 

A  soft  and  gentle  concord  seemed  the  hills 
The  first  low  strains  of  those  great  symphonies 

The    mighty    mountains,    which    rising    grandly 

shrills 
To  high-uplifted,  wildly-broken  song 

Of  crag,  and  peak,  and  heaven-piercing  tower 
And  swells,  in  rocky  battlements  along, 

God's  symphony  indeed  of  everlasting  power. 

IV 


Thus  dreaming  lyric  dreams  passed  my  first  youth. 

"  With  poesy  for  bread  and  song  for  wine  " 
As  poets  sing,  alas,  'twas  oft  the  literal  truth, 

For  grinding  poverty  through  years  was  mine. 
And  back  time-vaulting  memory  takes  me  to 

The  hour  auspicious  of  my  first  success. 
I  wondered  if  my  noble  patron  knew 

Of  my  deep  gratitude,  and  my  distress 
That  only  stumbling  utterances  could  show 
The  fervent  thanks  that  did  my  heart  o'erflow 

Yet  which  in  words  could  find  no  clear  egress. 
10 


Only  in  music's  language  could,  I  tell 

The  struggles  of  the  past  —  ambitions  high  — 
Desires  I  scarce  had  hoped  to  gratify, 

And  now  the  sweet  fulfillment!     O  full  well 
My  ringing  notes  did  stammering  words  outvie! 

His  was  a  gifted  mind  that  well  perceived 

Each  thought  expressed   in   tone,   and  though 
he  spoke 

No  uttered  word  I  felt  his  heart  received 
The  grateful  thoughts  I  essayed  to  evoke. 


He  smiled  approval,  linked  his  arm  in  mine 

And  passing  on  and  out,  we  came  to  where 
The  spacious  lawn  beneath  the  bright  sunshine 

Lay  like  a  second  Eden  smiling  fair. 
I  gazed  around  with  wondering  eyes  enchanted 

So  rich,  so  varied  was  the  rare  design 
Where  Art  o'er  watching  forms  by  Nature  planted 

Had  made  a  scene  of  loveliness  divine. 


"A  blending  of  all  beauties."     Flower  and  vine, 

Groves,  rocks,  and  dells  where  streams  did  spark 
ling  run 
Bird  song,  sweet  odors,  fountains,  soft  sunshine 

And  azure  skies  that  smiled  in  benison. 
On  velvet  sward,  each  brightest  flower  that  blows 

Like  jewels  rare  at  intervals  were  set; 
In  shadowy  glades  the  eglantine's  pale  rose 

Mingled  its  perfume  with  the  violet. 


1 1 


On  crystal  lakes  lolled  lilies  white  as  snow ; 

Through  stately  trees  flew  birds  of  brilliant  dyes  ; 
On  terraced  slopes  in  gay  pomp  to  and  fro 

Strutted    proud    peacocks   with    their   "  hundred 

eyes." 
Dense  shadowy  groves  drew  leafy  curtains  high 

Disclosing  vistas  of  ambrosial  gloom 
Where  startled  deer  glanced  up  with  frighted  eye 

And  pale  cool-rooted  flowers  essayed  to  bloom. 


Anon  were  Naiads,  with  chaste  urns  o'erflowing 

Spreading  a  genial  coolness  all  around 
And  with  their  wavelet's  sparkling  light  bestowing 

The  crowning  charm  to  that  enchanting  ground. 
Beyond  the  park  lay  fields  begirt  with  hedges 

And  somewhere  near  there  "  roared  melodiously  " 
An  unseen  brook  falling  o'er  rocky  ledges 

In  foaming  cataracts  to  the  distant  sea. 


We  strolled  the  winding  pathway  leisurely 

Then  paused  to  view,  —  beside  the  arching  gate — 
The  mansion  of  this  man  of  high  degree :  — 

A  grand  Baronial  Hall  of  ancient  date; 
Stately  and  fair  the  massive  structure  lay. 

Would  I  had  power,  my  friend,  to  paint  the  sight 
For  in  the  sunshine  of  a  westering  day 

Each  tower  and  roof  was  bathed  in  golden  light. 
12 


And  all  the  four-score  casements  were  as  bright 

As  if  within  raged  strange  conflagrant  fire 
That  through  the  clear  panes  rayed  prismatic  light 

Bright  as  the  dying  sun's  funereal  pyre. 
And  beautiful  in  wavy  curvature 

Arose  the  circle  of  low  guardian  hills 
Their  gray-green  sward  embossed  by  rocky  spur, 

Dotted  with  trees,  and  pearled  by  flowing  rills. 


But  as  I  paused,  and  looked  with  thoughtful  gaze 

A  sudden  dread  filled  my  too  prescient  soul  ; 
Nameless  forebodings,  like  a  cloudy  haze 

For  one  swift  moment  o'er  me  darkly  stole. 
For  me  unconscious  pilgrim  on  life's  way, 

Well  might  I  pause  that  day  and  make  no  haste. 

It  was  an  Ammon's  temple  on  the  Lybian  waste 
Wherein  for  future  joy  or  woe  there  lay 

Tablets  unseen  on  which  my  destiny  was  traced. 

10 

We  left  the  gate,  and  came  unto  a  bower 

Where  sat  fair  dames,  and  gallant  cavaliers 
I  was  presented,  —  bowed — (how  that  first  hour 

Comes  back  to  me  through  all  the  vanished  years!) 
Then  looking  up  I  saw  a  youthful  form, 

Harmonious  with  that  lovely  graceful  scene 
Yet  so  surpassing  all  in  some  high  charm 

Methought  I  stood  before  some  gracious  queen. 

ii 

A  maid  it  was,  but  so  divinely  fair 

She  seemed  an  angel  from  blest  worlds  afar; 

And  shone  amongst  the  others  gathered  there 

As  shines  midst  earthly  lights  some  heavenly  star. 


Yea!  as  a  star!  —  all  fire  and  softness  fine:  — 
A  slight  yet  stately  form ;  —  tresses  of  gold 

Shaded  a  face  where  smiles  of  bright  sunshine 
Played  over  earnest  depths  with  charm  untold. 

12 

Yea  as  a  star !  —  as  music  of  the  spheres 

Was  her  sweet  voice;  —  her  eyes!  e'en  now  to  me 
No  star  in  all  the  heaven  so  bright  appears ! 

And  oh,  her  smile!     'Twas  starlight  on  the  sea! 
"  My  daughter."     Thus  writh  tender  accents  spoke 

The  noble  Lord,  —  I  scarcely  dared  to  look  — 
Body  and  soul  I  bent.     Even  then  awoke 

That  love  that  thence  my  being's  centre  shook. 

13 

Yea  then!     As  at  a  touch  of  seraph's  wand 
To  strange  new  life  all  suddenly  my  soul 
Was  roused.     Joy,  pain,  —  vague  feelings  far  be 
yond 

Expression's  power  through  me  resistless  stole, 
Fond  yearnings,  longings  dimly  understood  — 
First  strange  sweet  growth  of  love's  fair  flower 

divine  — 

Passion's  delicious  quickening  of  the  blood  — 
From  that  bright  summer  hour  henceforth  were 
mine. 


In  far  less  heartfelt  scenes,  how  oft  had  I 

Sank  into  an  awkward  silence  almost  dumb 
From  diffidence,  —  that  seemed,  —  I  knew  not  why 

To  paralyze  my  brightest  thoughts,  and  numb 
And  dull  my  brain,  at  all  times  heretofore, 

How  was  it  on  that  day,  —  I  to  a  height 
Of  conversational  power  did  rise  and  soar 

As  if  on  new-found  wings  of  light? 


15 

'Twas  she.     And  as  a  wine  of  vintage  rare 

Thrilled  to  new  energy  my  brain,  till  thought 
Sprang  swiftly  up,  and  I  did  dare 

To  speak  with  free,  unfettered  tongue,  and  nought 
Abashed  my  words  in  undreamed  eloquence 

Fell  like  a  sparkling  shower  upon  them  there. 
How  lightly,  gayly  in  that  sylvan  bower 

The  friendly  talk  around  the  circle  ran! 
Rank's  barriers  fled  as  shadows  in  that  hour 

And  each  man  felt  himself  brought  near  to  man. 

16 

And  when  I  spoke  upon  her  radiant  face 

Sometimes  I  caught  a  smile  as  swift  as  light; 
And  in  her  eyes  bright  meanings  I  could  trace 

When  I  keen  wit  with  logic  did  unite. 
To  me  the  hours  seemed  moments.     Every  word 

From  her  sweet  lips  came  o'er  me  like  the  dew 
On  thirsty  grass.     Each  soft  emotion  stirred 

To  joyous  life.     Yet  as  the  daylight  grew 

17 

More  airy  on  the  mountain  top,  —  when  fell 

The  shadows  longer  on  the  vale,  —  a  tone 
Of  sadness  came,  —  faint  as  a  dying  knell 

From  some  deep  recess  of  my  heart  unknown 
And  whispered  softly,  that  as  this  fair  day 

Was  drawing  to  a  close,  so  likewise  must 
The  day  of  man's  existence  fade  away 

His  hopes,  his  joys  decline  into  the  dust. 

18 

And  all  I  gazed  on,  —  shaded  woodland  bowers  — 
The  cloud-capped  mountains,  —  flowering  mead 
ows  gay  — 


The  stately  mansion's  massive  granite  towers 
Yea,  even  the  globe,  dissolve  and  pass  away. 

But  when  at  twilight  hour,  with  stars  above 
I  bade  adieu,  —  her  hand  clasped  close  in  mine 

All  gloom  had  fled,  my  heart  knew  only  love 
And  its  sweet  madness  made  life  seem  divine! 


I  was  to  teach  her  music.     Thus  each  day 

Thereafter  in  the  open  cheerful  room 
To  music  set  apart,  I  found  alway 

My  Lady  smiling  'mid  sweet  plants  abloom. 
And  there  at  every  morn  and  eve,  the  while 

She  practiced  scales  and  trills,  —  the  art  of  song, 
What  bliss  to  stand  beside  her,  —  see  her  smile, 

And  watch  her  white  hands  sweep  the  keys  along ! 


Ere  long  my  patron's  family  left  in  quest 

Of  health  (or  pleasure)  to  some  famed  resort: 
My  pupil  stayed  behind  ('twas  her  request 

She'd  fain  excel  in  music's  gentle  art.) 
And  thus  she  wandered  through  the  park  at  will 

And  drew  me,  by  the  spirit,  to  her  side 
To  feed  the  swans,  —  to  watch  the  foaming  rill 

Leap  down  the  steep  to  meet  the  river's  tide. 


Searching  to  find  in  footsteps  of  dead  spring 

Perchance  some  violet  lingering  in  the  shade ;  — 

Stopping  to  hear  the  tuneful  thrushes  sing ;  — 
Watching  the  red  deer  in  the  hidden  glade. 
16 


And  all  about  the  old  Baronial  Court 

We  walked  at  will  through  one  blest  summer 

time 
And   sang  —  and    talked  —  half   earnest  —  half   in 

sport 
Of  love  and  chivalry  and  deeds  sublime. 


Sometimes  we  glanced  on  themes  whose  deep  import 

We  little  kenned,  —  topics  of  Church  and  State; 
Gave  judgment  on  the  Field,  the  Camp,  the  Court; 

On  books  most  worthy  of  our  love  or  hate. 
Not  much  with  Science  did  we  care  to  climb 

Far  dearer  to  us  was  the  subtle  witchery 
Of  poesy,  from  old  and  classic  rhyme 

To  sweet,  if  lesser  songs  of  our  own  century. 


We  read  and  loved  them  all!     What  strains  divine 

Did  Tasso  trill  us  from  Armida's  bowers! 
And  from  Dante  what  draughts  of  lyric  wine 

Sparkling    and    clear,    crowned    with    immortal 

flowers. 
What  dreams  from  Coleridge's  visionary  soul! 

What  gems  from  Shelley's  dazzling  flow  of  song! 
What  hymeneal  hymns  from  Keats  did  roll 

Sweet  as  the  notes  his  wood  nymphs  blew  along! 


And  Tennyson,  more  loved  than  all  beside  — 
We  knew  each  poem  well.     Enid  the  bride; 

Maud,  Arthur,  Guinevere;  we  knew  them  all. 
How  Elaine  loved,  and  for  her  true  love  died; 

And  how  false  Vivian  held  the  sage  in  thrall; 
The  woes  that  Enoch  Arden  did  betide ;  — 

The  noble  words  of  him  of  Locksley  Hall. 


And  pale  proud  Byron  brought  us  Harold,  Childe 

Of  wandering  fancy  and  immortal  song; 
While   Scott   on   bagpipes   shrilled   his   Gatherings 
wild 

Where    warriors    brave    did    to    their    chieftain 

throng. 
And  from  the  skies  of  Swinburne's  wondrous  soul 

Gleamed  starry  songs,   flame-hearted,   scintillant 
Wherein  of  heaven,  and  earth  and  sea  the  whole 

Seemed  molten  in  one  music  jubilant. 

8 

Our  young  hearts  throbbed  to  every  strain  they  sang 

Whether  the  thought  was  one  of  joy  or  dole 
Straight  from  the  poet's  heart  to  ours  it  sprang 

And  found  lodgment  in  each  virgin  soul. 
And  thus  the  Land  of  Song  that  lies 

Deep  in  each  heart,  watered  by  these  springs 
Budded  and  bloomed,  —  e'en  as  in  Paradise 
'Tis  said  each  bough  and  shrub  that  flowerless  lies 

Bursts  into  bloom  when  swept  by  angel  wings. 


Our  souls  "  caught  up  "  by  poesy  were  whirled 

About  impassioned  heights  of  thought,  and  saw 
A  vision  of  the  glory  of  the  world, 

Duty  divine,  and  Righteousness,  and  Law. 
Yet  for  this  galaxy  of  song,  'twas  love 

That  made  for  all  the  "  sweet  particular  air 
To  shine  in."     Anon  like  that  above 

The  blessed  founts  and  palms  of  Eden  fair; 
And  then  anon  like  to  the  Siroc's  breath 

That  leaves  the  life  a  withered  wasted  plain  ; 
Anon  the  north  wind  smiting  unto  death; 

Anon  the  gale  that  brings  the  fruitful  rain. 
.   18 


10 

One  day  we  read  the  legendary  lore 

Of  gods  and  heroes  of  an  age  gone  by 
When  man  with  simple  faith  that  is  no  more 

Invested  nature  with  divinity. 
And  deems  as  sacred,  groves,  and  forest  boughs, 

The  fruitful  earth,  the  ocean  and  the  fire. 
To  each  the  simple  shepherds  paid  their  vows 

Sweet  offering  made  and  tuned  melodious  lyre. 

ii 

'  The  earth,"  I  said,  "  outgrows  those  old  romances 

Which  Argive  poets  once  divinely  sung: 
They  were  but  symbols  all,  those  mythic  fancies  — 

A  spark,  from  which  a  holier  light  hath  sprung. 
Mere  husks  —  which  none  believe,  though  even 

They  once  the  kernel  of  deep  truth  contained 
Whose  meaning  to  the  priest  alone  was  given, 

Which  not  to  all  its  holy  truth  explained." 

12 

"  No  doubt,"  she  said,  "  your  wisdom  reasons  well. 

But  what  delight  were  mine,  if,  when  we  rove 
As  oft  we  do,  through  grove  and  shady  dell 

To  hear  young  Colin-Spenser  piping  of  his  love! 
'  For  I  too,  shepherds  was  in  Arcadia  born  ' : 

She  gayly  quoted,  "  where  the  corn  is  gold  ; 
And   watched   the   lithe-limbed    reapers   night   and 
morn 

Wrestle  and  dance  about  the  wattled  fold. 

13 

"  With  young  Alcyon  did  I  watch  the  sheep 
And  tuned  my  pipe  with  his  in  rivalry, — 

(This  was  ere  he  death's  cruel  spoil  did  weep 
Or  sang  his  Daphne's  piteous  elegy.) 

19 


Oft  have  I  heard  him  with  his  honied  lute 
Piping  '  Sweet  Eglantine  of  Meriflure/ 

Even  Atlanta,  fair  and  fleet  of  foot, 

Stood  listening  'neath  the  vines'  sweet  coverture. 


"  And  sad  CEnone,  mourning  her  false  love 

In  vales  Ionian,  have  I  heard  complain; 
Ah,  me,  how  sad  her  song!    The  turtle  dove 

Mourns  not  at  eve  with  such  melodious  pain. 
How  dull  this  scene!     To  what  far-distant  streams 

Have  vanished  all  the  sparkling  Naides? 
Do  they  enchanted  slumber,  dreaming  dreams 

In  some  lone  isle,  beneath  strange  river  trees? 

15 

"Are  not  these  skies  as  blue,  these  groves  as  wild 

As  those  of  Thessaly?     Doth  not  this  field  — 
(Green  as  those  meadows  where  queen  Juno  smiles) 

A  honied  wealth  sweet  as  Hymettus'  yield? 
But  from  the  umbrage  of  all  forest  trees 

The  laughing  Dryads  have  forever  fled. 
Would  that  again  amid  these  clustering  leaves 

Some  ancient  god  would  raise  a  vine-wreathed 
head! 

16 

"  Would  I  could  glimpse  a  silver-sandaled  foot 

Where  midst  green  water-flags  some  nymph  did 

tread 
Swift-vanishing  —  or  see  with  reeded  flute 

Pressed  to  his  lips,  old  Pan  lift  up  his  head. 
And  Oh!  to  see  the  goddess  Cythere 

Wandering  with  fair  Adonis  on  the  plain, 
Amidst  the  myrtle  groves  of  Arcady! 

But  they  are  dead,  never  to  live  again  !  " 
20 


17 

She   paused,    and    laughed.     The   ancient    oak   be 
neath 

Which  we  were  sitting,  waved  its  branches  fair; 
Midst  shadows  swiftly  flitting,  sunlight  wreathed 

Inconstant  glory  on  her  golden  hair. 
How  beautiful  she  looked!     Her  words  of  haste 

Her  cheeks  had  flushed,  —  her  merry  lips  apart; 
The  silken  scarf  that  bound  her  lissome  waist 

Had  burst  beneath  the  heavings  of  her  heart. 


18 

I  answered  merrily  her  fancy's  mood : 

"  They  are  not  dead  those  gods  of  Poesy, 
They  do  but  sleep  in  some  enchantment  rude, 
And  could  they  hear  thy  sweet  voice  in  the  wood 

They  would  awake  and  deem  it  Thessaly. 
Yon  laurel  tree  again  would  Daphne  wreathe; 

The  Dryads  in  this  oak  again  would  dwell  ; 
Along  yon  shore  Ceres  her  sighs  would  breathe; 

And  in  this  grove  would  sing  sweet  Philomel. 


19 

Amid  the  sedges  by  the  meadow  rill 

Again  would  pastoral  syrinx  blow  her  horn; 
And  for  her  lost  Adonis  yonder  hill 

Again  would  hear  fair  Cytherea  mourn. 
They  do  but  deeply  sleep,  —  sometimes  one  sees 

Them  now    (I  smiled).     This  yellow  daffodil 
Doth  it  not  waken  slumbering  memories 
When  you  and  I  did  roam  at  our  sweet  will 
In  ages  past  some  green  Helconian  hill? 
Or  on  some  rocky  height  did  sit  at  ease 
Watching  the  play  of  blue  nymph-haunted  seas? 
21 


20 

"And  I  affirm  (when  them  hast  blushed)   I've  seen 

Sweet-faced  Aurora  in  her  beauteous  dawning; 
And  '  Dew  by  fairy  feet  swept  from  the  green  ' 

When  thou  hast  crossed  the  lawn  at  early  morn 
ing. 
And  there  are  Fairies  still  e'en  as  of  old 

Who  decked  with  flowers  beneath  an  oaken  tree 
(She  had  twined  roses  in  her  locks  of  gold) 

Surpasses  even  Titania's  majesty. 


21 

"  Methinks  I  have  a  vivid  memory 

Of  one  wood  nymph  divine,  whose  hair  the  sun 
Did  far  outshine,  when  hid,  I  laughed  to  see 

How  she  through  meadow  paths  did  swiftly  run 
In  gleeful  joyousness  till  all  the  wold  — 

Clad  in  the  emerald  robes  of  early  spring  — 
Seemed  with  her  hair's  swift  changes  flecked  with 
gold, 

E'en  Jove  himself  ne'er  saw  a  fairer  thing! 


22 

"And   brighter   than   Semele's   were   the   eyes   that 

met  us, 

Swifter  than  Atlanta's  were  the  flying  feet, 
And  her  lips!     No  bees  of  Hybla  or  Hymettus 

Ever  made  a  honey  half  so  pure  and  sweet! 
At  such  an  hour  as  this,  in  such  a  scene 

The  nymphs  of  wood  and  rock  and  stream  had 

birth : 
My  eyes  beheld  them  not,  but  well  I  ween 

When  thou  wast  born,  one  nymph  came  back  to 
earth." 

22 


23 

Thus  oft  we  talked,  and  every  various  thought 

Love  set  to  music  every  hour  I  wis 
Yet  we  were  only  friends,  nor  ever  sought 

That  closer  touch,  which  turns  content  to  bliss. 
And  as  I  lie  here  fevered  all  day  long 

Weary  and  weak,  my  head  upon  my  hand 
My  heart  breaks  for  those  hours  of  talk  and  song 

That  once  were  mine  in  that  beloved  land. 

24 

And  sometimes  when  at  eve  through  ether  blue 

I  watch  fair  Hesper's  silver  taper  shine 
I  musing  ask,  "And  does  she  see  it  too? 

In  some  far  land,  my  Lady  most  divine!  " 
Then  my  tears  fall.     "And  is  she  happy?"  then 

I  ask,  "  Does  she  think  of  those  old  hours 
With  me  in  starlight,  and  in  sunlight,  when 

We   walked    and    talked    and    sung   among    the 
flowers?" 

25 

How  oft  in  dreams  I  seem  to  see  her  yet! 

Beneath  the  trees  —  amidst  the  garden  bowers; 
Beside  the  fountain  where  so  oft  we  met 

In  dear  communion  through  the  twilight  hours. 
Last  eve  when  westering  Day  grew  bright  in  death — 

When  pale  and  paler  grew  his  hectic  fire 
A  sweet  strong  wind  blew  glad  of  life  and  breath 

Straight  from  the  Sun's  extinct  funereal  pyre. 

26 

It  brought  refreshment.     Then  I  slept  and  dreamed 
Of  that  glad  summer  in  the  fatherland 

And  of  my  lady  fair  who,  it  meseemed 
Stood  not  far  off  with  roses  in  her  hand. 

23 


I  cried  in  rapture:     "Ah,  beloved,  to  me 
Return,  and  bring  as  in  the  days  of  yore 

Life's  glory  and  life's  gladness,  found  in  thee 
Alone,  and  with  thee  lost  f orevermore !  " 

27 

She  stood  before  me,  looked  into  my  face 

With  unutterably  bright  and  shining  eyes; 
No  word  she  spake,  but  with  angelic  grace 

Lifted  her  hand  and  pointed  to  the  skies. 
'Twas  but  a  dream,  but  oh,  the  wild  delight 

That  thrilled  my  soul,  to  see  what  once  to  me 
Was  of  my  lonely  life  the  one  thing  bright. 

Though  but  a  dream  it  seemed  sweet  prophecy 
Of  another  meeting  in  a  land  of  light. 


VI 


Words  fail   to  fully  tell,   friend  of  my  heart, 

Her  graciousness  of  mien,  her  courtesy 
Through  all  the  time  we  studied  that  great  art 

That  doth  subdue  mere  sound  to  harmony. 
How  bright  she  was  in  all  its  subtleties! 

And  e'en  in  chords  entangled  could  discern 
Some  thought  of  nature's  wreathing  melodies 

That  Masters  in  the  art  but  seldom  learn. 


Of  thought  expressed  in  tone,  how  great 

Was  her  delight !     Oft  would  she  question  me 

In  words,  and  I  —  my  heart  with  pride  elate  — 
Answered  in  tones  which  did  consonantly 

The  varied  feelings  of  the  mind  express. 

While  she  near  by,  noting  with  earnest  heed 
24 


My  every  tone  with  gleeful  readiness 

Each  thought  my  music  woke  to  life  would  read. 

3 

And  thus  with  free  speech,  earnest,  gay  or  sad, 

With  fervent  looks  to  which  the  stars  are  pale, 
Laughter  —  tears  —  and  always  with  the  glad 

Sad  voice  of  Music  —  life  in  that  sweet  vale 
Was  as  a  fair  bright  dawn  impearled  with  dew 

Whose  Morning  Star  with  radiance  all  untold 
Had  ushered  in  a  day  wherein  a  new 

"Apocalypse  of  nature  "  was  unrolled. 


Ah,  was  she  not  in  truth  a  morning  star! 

Did    not    her    presence    bring    sweet    airs    from 

heaven  ? 
Soft  as  Eolian  harpings  heard  afar  — 

As  clear  as  strains  by  sun-kissed  Memnon  given! 
The  earth  seemed  by  a  radiant  difference  born  anew 

Ask  me  not  how  —  I  can  no  reason  render: 

The     stars    shot    brighter    beams ;  —  a    deeper 

splendor 

Shone  through  the  heaven's  etheric,  effluent  blue  — 
As  if  to  it  the  sun  his  being  drew  — 

More  lustrous  seemed  the  deeply  shining  sea; 
Blooms  fairer  were  —  and  with  a  far  more  tender 

Cadence  trilled  the  wild-wood  minstrelsy. 


Days,  weeks,  and  months  passed  thus  I  have  been 

told, 

I  did  not  know  —  I  only  counted  time 
By  hours  with  her.     (How  short  they  were  to  hold 
The    whole    of     life!)     Alas,    that    love    life's 
Prime  — 

25 


In  all  the  luxury  of  verdure  given 
To  the  full  flush  of  ardent  summer-time 
Should  be  for  one  above  me  as  the  heaven! 


I  took  no  heed  of  earth  nor  the  profound 

Of  ocean's  depths  beneath,  nor  heaven's  above, 
Nor  human  fears  and  hopes,  —  in  her  I  found 

Earth,  heaven,  and  sea  —  my  universe  of  love. 
My  mind  a  realm  of  fantasy  became 

Where  only  passion  dwelt:  by  day  and  night 
Love's  torch  burned  in  my  heart  —  reflected  flame 

From  her  my  sun,  —  my  day-of-life's  blest  light. 


The  children  of  this  faithless,  selfish  world  — 

What  know  they  of  such  deep  unchanging  love! 
'Tis  far  above  them,  as  the  stars  impearled 

In  yonder  heaven  are  this  dark  world  above. 
They  know  no  more  than  some  blind  worm  that 
creeps 

Beneath  the  earth  towards  his  fellow  knows 
How  gloriously  the  light  through  heaven  sweeps 

When  first  the  sun  at  morn  his  beams  disclose. 

8 

Such  love's  an  isolation  of  the  soul 

Absorbing,  absolute  —  nothing  doth  live 
Save  one.     The  Pleiades  unceasing  roll 

For  one,  and  their  "  sweet  influences  "  give. 
For  one  the  seasons  through  the  years  revolve; 

The  star  beams  shine;  the  moon  sheds  radiance 
bright  ; 

For  one  alone  the  clouds  in  rain  dissolve ; 
Rises  the  sun  at  morn  and  sets  at  night: 
Past  ages  all  the  herald  of  its  might; 
Its  heritage  —  eternal  life  and  light ! 
26 


Love  to  the  common  herd  is  but  a  toy,  — 

To  be  played  with  —  then  cast  aside  at  will. 
No  likeness  bearing  to  that  highest  joy 

Than  bears  to  ocean's  depths  the  shallow  rill. 
O  flame  ineffable  of  radiance  bright! 

Unutterable,  and  never-dying  One! 
Their  love  to  mine  is  as  the  fire-fly's  light 

Is  to  the  scorching  blaze  of  noonday  sun. 


10 

O  sweet  bewildering  charm  that  every  hour 

Two  hearts  as  one  in  sympathy  doth  blend! 
What  force  of  reason  can  withstand  its  power? 

Though  leading  only  to  a  bitter  end  ? 
Aye!     E'en  unto  death!  such  love  was  mine,  and 
nought 

On  earth  beneath,  has  e'er  had  power  again 
To  move  my  bosom's  fondest,  deepest  thought 

To  heights  or  depths  supreme  of  joy  or  pain. 


II 


And  deem  not  true  the  maxim  old  that  time 

Changes     all     things  —  true     love     doth     never 

change : 
"  Nor  alters  when  it  alteration  finds  "* 

Through  life,   in  death,   nought  can  such   souls 

estrange. 
And  now  I  die,  because  my  longing  heart 

Breaks  for  the  one  I  may  not,  must  not,  see. 
O  pride  accursed!     That  our  two  lives  did  part  — 

Lives  linked  by  love's  divine  affinity. 


Shakespeare. 

27 


12 

And  she?     Yes  she  had  also  felt  that  fine 

Sweet,  dominating  force  so  dear  to  woman ;  — 
That  power  which  by  an  alchemy  divine 

Transmutes  into  a  god  the  weakly  human. 
No  word  we  spake  —  but  there  are  tones  and  signs 

Unuttered  that  we  understand  and  see. 
I  knew  her  heart  answered  each  hour  to  mine; 

And  oft  her  pensive  eyes  did  question  me. 

13 

My  love!     My  life!     Could  she  have  read  aright 

My  inmost  soul  she  must  have  seen  and  known 
Since   first   we   met,   with   what   great   power  and 
might 

My  love  for  her  had  all  resistless  grown. 
Could  she  have  guessed  how  hard  it  was  for  me 

To  see  —  to  know,  —  yet  never  dare  to  speak 
And  tell  my  love,  —  presumptuous  though  it  be, 

And  from  her  willing  lips  love's  guerdon  take! 

H 

Honor  forbade.     I  forced  the  impulse  down 

And  tried  by  reason's  power  to  still  the  heart 
In  strains  of  thrilling  music  tried  to  drown 

Passion's  wild  fires,  and  ease  the  burning  smart. 
Ah,  duty  harsh  and  hard  that  thus  gainsays 

The  heart's  sweet  impulse!    Bitter  the  decree 
To  banish  love  and  see  the  hastening  days 

Of  life's  one  springtime  wasted  as  they  flee! 

15 

Oft  would  we  meet  at  morn,  or  vesper  chime, 

Beneath  the  trees,  by  fount,  or  winding  stream 
Of  those  swreet  hours  I  wrote  full  many  a  rhyme 
28 


As  lovers  will  when   tranced   by  love's  strange 

dream. 
Did  not  Dante  of  his  immortal  love 

Sing  ever  fondly  in  the  olden  time? 
And  Tasso  with  laments  sweet  thoughts  in-wove. 

Read  and  forgive  my  friend,  this  lesser  rhyme. 


EVENING  AND  MEETING 

These  verses  breathed  themselves  to  life  one  eve 
After  a  day  in  which  looks  most  divine 

And  languorous  sighs  had  made  me  well  believe 
Her  true  heart  beat  responsively  to  mine. 


O  Lady  leave  thy  stately  halls 

And  sit  alone  this  eve  with  me 
Where  the  fading  light  of  the  sunset  falls 

On  the  fountain  flowing  free  — 
The  murmuring  fountain  that  forever  calls  — 

As  my  heart,  —  for  thee !  for  thee ! 


The  nenuphars  loll  on  the  lake 
And  open  pure,  gold-hearted  stars, 

While  lucent  waves  to  their  soft  bosom  take 
The  planets  and  fiery  Mars 

Burns  them  with  kisses  till  blushing  they  break 
In  rose-tinted  bright-sparkling  bars. 

3 

The  bright  crimson  rose  on  the  wall 
Grows  wan  in  the  fast-fading  light 
And  soon  o'er  the  meadows,  and  fields  like  a  pall 
Will  descend  the  shadows  of  night. 
29 


But  ah,  not  a  shadow  on  my  glad  heart  shall  fall 
For  my  Lady  will  meet  me  tonight! 

4 

What  a  glad  sweet  west  Wind  blows 

O'er  the  slowly  purpling  lea! 
It  bringeth  the  odor  of  jasmine  and  rose 

And  the  song  of  the  sounding  sea: 
O  happy  west  Wind !     Well  he  knows !  —  well  he 
knows !  — 

My  Lady  is  coming  to  me! 

5 

Haste  moments!     For  my  heart's  full  flood 

Flows  surging  to  her  evermore, 
And  a  tumult,  and  longing  are  thrilling  my  blood 

As  the  passionate  sea  seeks  its  shore 
And  my  heart  beats  with  rapture,  as  it  throbbed 
when  she  stood 

By  my  side  in  the  music-room  door 
When  her  sighs  spoke  "  love  "  plainly  as  language 
could 

And  her  eyes  mutely  questioned  "  No  more?  " 


All  day  have  those  languorous  sighs 

Through  my  heart's  glad  garden  blown  — 

(As  a  breeze  of  the  evening  slow-lingering  flies 
Through  passion   flowers  —  loves  very  own) 

And   those   glances  —  more  lambent   than  stars  in 

the  skies 
Through  the  hours  in  my  heart  have  shone ! 

7 

And  the  dread  of  parting  shall  not  lit 
Tonight  on  my  heart  like  a  stone 
3° 


And  thoughts  of  the  future  like  phantoms  shall  fly 

And  Joy  shall  himself  enthrone, 
For  this  eve  where  flowers  to  the  soft  winds  sigh 

We  two  will  wander  alone! 

8 

Though  the  future  will  bring  I  know 

Great  ills  in  its  sorrowful  train :  — 
A  woe  that  will  blanch  my  lips  and  my  brow  — 

Heart-hunger,  and  longing  pain  — 
Lone  mornings,  and  evenings  that  will  bring  I  trow 

Yearnings  to  see  her  again  — 
Wishings,  and  thirstings,  to  see  her  —  as  now 

But  then  —  Oh,  God,  —  all  in  vain ! 


But  I  will  be  happy  tonight 

Till  all  the  sweet  hours  be  over; 

I  will  list  to  her  songs  and  words  with  delight 
As  if  I  were  happiest  lover,  — 

And  if  I  should  weep  the  shadows  of  night 
The  dolorous  brine  will  cover. 

10 

O  Supreme  Love!     Thou  art  something  higher 
Than  youthful  visions,  rose-hued,  and  bright, 

Stronger  art  thou  than  all  desire 
And  fairer  than  all  delight  — 

More  deep  than  thought !  —  spark  of  living  fire 
From  the  Eternal  Fount  of  Light ! 

ii 

Through  the  everlasting  years 

Beyond  the  shores  of  time 
Far,  —  far  above  the  starry  spheres  — 

Higher  than  thought  may  climb  — 


Or  vision  pierce  of  hoar  and  holy  seers  — 
Reigns  Love  the  lord  sublime. 

12 

But  my  Lady,  she  cometh  soon! 

0  nightingales  sing  on  for  love! 
To  lighten  her  pathway  arise  O  moon! 

Her  pathway  to  me  through  the  grove! 
Sing,  O  nightingales!     Sing!     Your  most  jubilant 

tune 
Shine  your  brightest!  O  stars  above! 

13 

And  tonight  —  tonight,  at  her  feet 

Will  I  lay  the  glad  gift  of  song! 
Strains  sweet  as  the  notes  the  bulbuls  repeat 

To  their  loves  the  summer  night  long  — 
Would  that  with  my  Lady's  perfections  replete 

1  could  make  immortal  the  song! 


Would  I  could  tell  her  how  dark  and  strong 

Is  the  night  she  drives  away! 
And  with  love's  most  thrilling,  and  eloquent  tongue 

Tell  her  how  dark  is  the  day 
When  I  see  her  not,  —  how  I  sigh  and  long 

As  the  chill  months  long  for  May! 

15 

What  gleamed  where  the  breezes  blew 
Through  the  boughs  the  balsamic  air? 

Was  it  the  moonlight  clear  reflected  in  dew? 
Or  the  sheen  of  her  golden  hair? 

And  was  that  her  hand  down  the  dark  avenue 
That  flashed  so  white  and  fair? 

32 


i6 

She  cometh !     O  grace  unknown !  — 

O  sun's  compeer  in  thy  dear  light 
Dread  of  the  future  —  of  parting,  has  flown, 

Darkness  has  vanished,  and  there  is  no  night  — 
Never  a  shadow,  where  thy  clear  eyes  have  thrown 

Sweet  glances  of  love  shining  bright! 


VII 

And  many  times,  ere  to  his  daily  task 

The  sun  in  splendor  joyously  sprang  forth; 
Or  ere  the  dark,  unfathomed,  star-gemmed  mask 

Of  darkness  fell  from  the  reposing  earth, 
Would  I  arise  and  hasten  where  pale  flowers 

Edging  a  shaded  stream,  perfumed  the  air 
Here  would  I  sit  and  write  through  early  hours: 

And  sometime  would  my  Lady  meet  me  there, 
And    wander   with    me    through    green    wildwood 
bowers 

Odorous  with  tender  smells  from  budding  vines 
Till  lessons  called  us  hence.     Of  these  bright  hours 

I   wrote    (forgive   their   weakness   friend)    these 
lines : 


MORNING  AND  MEETING 


O  morn,  lift  high   thy  gates!     The   glorious  sun- 
god  waits: 
Fling    wide    your    flashing,    flaming    doors,    ye 

golden  towers  of  Light! 

To  let  the  lord  of  Day  in  dazzling  bright  array 
Come  in,  dispersing  by  his  power  the  gloomy 
hosts  of  Night. 

33 


2 

Mountains  bedewed  with  rills,  and  heaven-kissing 

hills 

Beheld,  far  off,  through  vaporous  shades,  his  radi 
ant  banners  thrown 
And  donned  their  crowns  of  light,  —  their  jeweled 

vestments  bright 

And  amethystine  veils  of  mist,  by  Auroral  breezes 
blown. 

3 

In  valleys  low  and  green,  gray  ghostlike  rock  be 
tween 
Violets  of  royal  sheen  lift  up,  dark,  dew-wet  faces 

sweet, 
And    through   the   lightening   gloom   breathe   forth 

divine  perfume  — 

An  offering  of  incense  rare  for  his  approaching 
feet. 

4 

Adown  the  rocky  height  the  fountain  flashing  bright 
To  meet  and  greet  the  glorious  one,  sparkles  with  . 

joy  and  springs 
While  on   the  resonant  air  in  cadence  sweet  and 

clear 

Is  heard  the  lark's  exultant  song  as  at  heaven's 
gate  she  sings. 

5 
From  groves  and  woodlands  lone,  as  cheer  of  sweet 

flutes  blown 
Now  ring  the  birds'  first  mating  songs  to  greet 

his  presence  bright 

While  trees  their  branches  fair  lift  in  the  dewy  air 
And  wave  glad  salutation  to  the  lord  of  life  and 
light. 

34 


6 

But  where  is  my  heart's   sun?  my  life's  light  — 

peerless  one? 
In  her  chamber  is  she  slumbering  soft  and  pure 

and  warm? 
Oh,  would  that  dreams  might  stir,  love  deep  as  mine 

in  her 

And  weave  by  mystic  spirit  power  a  never  ending 
charm. 

7 

And  as  the  sun-god  bright  disperses  shades  of  night 
All   my   dark   despairing   thoughts   her   presence 

drives  away 
Then  rise  thou  Sun  most  fair  haste  through  the  dewy 

air 

'Tis  at  morn's  early  hours  that  earth  her  fairest 
charms  display. 

8 

Through  deepest  woodland  shades,  through  flower- 
scented  glades; 

And  'neath  the  lighter  umbrage  of  the  open,  sun 
lit  grove, 
We'll  wander  while  the  sun  doth  his  first  measures 

run 

And  softly  as  on  angel  wings  will  glide  the  hours 
of  love. 

9 

Come !  for  the  emerald  leaves  are  whispering  in  the 

breeze 
And  rustling  softly  as  if  kissed  by  sunbeams  from 

above ; 
While  a  tumult,  joyous,  light  in  earth  and  water 

bright 

Proclaim  that  spring  is  holding  her  festival  of 
love! 

35 


1O 

Oh,  all  day  long  my  soul  trembles  in  love's  control 
And   all  night  long  with  thoughts  of   thee  my 

fevered  dreams  are  sweet 
Dreams  in  which  I  see  thy  tender  eyes  —  thy  hair's 

gold  splendor 

And  offer  thee  my  heart's  devotion,  kneeling  at 
thy  feet. 

II 

Oh  haste  my  Lady  sweet !  —  For  thy  delaying  feet 
I  listen,  listen,  near  the  stream  beneath  the  spread 
ing  trees 
Here   sadly,   faintly  sighing,   my  hopes   despairing, 

dying 

I  send  my  burning  thoughts  to  thee  on  morning's 
swiftest  breeze :  — 

12 

"  Oh,  tell  her,  Wind,  I  dream  by  the  low  murmur 
ing  stream 
And  to  all  pleasant  sights  and  sounds  I  close  my 

weary  ears 
In  my  sad  mind  there  lives  no  thought  that  pleasure 

gives 

For  every  sweet  and  precious  hope  is  shadowed 
by  dark  fears. 

13 
Tell  her  where  sunlight  plays,  on  spicy  woodbine 

sprays 
And  every  bough  and  branch  upon  the  wild-wood 

almond  trees 
Droops,  heavy  with  pink  blooms,  each  filled  with 

rich  perfumes 

And  nectarous  honey,  golden-hued,  to  tempt  the 
drowsy  bees,  — 

36 


'Tis  there  alone,  alone  —  her  other  self,  her  own 
Languishes  with  longings  deep  till  his  love  doth 

come 

And  with  her  presence  bring  bird's  songs  and  flow 
ers,  and  spring! 

Absent  from   her   the  vernal   earth   is  cold   and 
dark  and  dumb. 


15 

Tell  her  what  grief  is  mine!  she  leaves  me  here  to 
pine  — 

Time  passes  yet  she  comes  not  —  Will  she  come  ? 
Despairing  let  me  die  forgetting  agony! 

Alas !  I  see  her  not  though  far  my  sad  eyes  roam. 

16 

O  thou  snow-white  blossom !  —  white  as  her  pure 

bosom !  — 
By  the  rude  storm  tossed,  and  bruised,  and  wildly 

heaved ! 
Wind  torn  —  as  I  with  fears,  rain-wet  —  as  I  with 

tears,  — 

Emblem  art  thou  of  my  heart,  O  my  hopes  de 
ceived  ! 


17 

But  soft!     What  image  bright  breaks  on  my  rap 
tured  sight? 
My  Lady  comes  —  she  comes !  and  with  her  all 

things  fair; 
Yet  fairer  she  than  flowers,   that  deck  the  rarest 

bowers 

And  sweeter  than  all  odors  fine  distilled  in  dewy 
air! 

37 


i8 

Oh  brighter  are  her  eyes,   than  stars  in  midnight 

skies! 

And  never  white  blooms  dew-impearled,  the  fair 
est  of  all  lands 
Can   rival  the  pure  whiteness  —  the  airy  graceful 

lightness 

Nor  equal  in  their  fragrance  the  sweetness  of  her 
hands. 


19 

Afar  seen  faintly  —  then  plainly,  by  glade  and  glen 
She  comes,  my  life,  my  soul,  true  to  my  heart, 

her  home! 
Hasten!     Oh,   pause  not  now!  —  parched   are  my 

lips  and  brow. 

(Oh  would  that  she  could  come  to  never,  never 
roam!) 

20 

The  softly  waving  grass  bends  low  to  see  her  pass 
O'er  hills  of  emerald  verdure,  where  soft  winds 

whisper  "  Stay 

With  us  and  we  will  sing  strains  soft,  enrapturing 
Blown  sweetly  on  Eolian  harps,  O  thou  fairer 
than  the  day!  " 

21 

And  birds  —  a  joyous  choir,  lift  their  glad  voices 

higher 
And  chirp  "  O  hear  us!  hear  us!  our  songs  are  all 

of  love," 
While  streams  and   fountains  sigh   "  haste   not  so 

quickly  by 

We  would  thy  image  mirror,  thou  dearest  earth 
above." 

38 


22 

And  all  the  pale,  pure  flowers,  that  bud  in  wood 
land  bowers 

Have  waited  through  the  dawning  hours,  open 
ing  each  silk-soft  bloom  — 
Exhaling  odors  sweet,  for  her  approaching  feet 
'Til  birds  and  happy  insects  dance  in  waves  of 
rich  perfume. 


23 

Cease!    birds,    and    streams,    and    breeze,    and    thy 

whispering  O  leaves! 
And   listen   in   waiting  silence   as   her  lingering 

steps  draw  near 
To  where  I  sit  alone,  on  a  rock  with  moss  o'er- 

grown 

(All  swiftly  as  the  mists  have  flown  each  gloomy 
doubt  and  fear.) 


24 

But  hasten !  hasten  near !  my  ears  are  sick  to  hear 

The  music  of  that  softest,  gentlest,  voice  of  thine 
O  heart,  —  O  throbbing  bosom !     My  love  is  com 
ing  —  coming! 

Mine!     Mine!      (Would  God  she  were!)     For 
ever,  ever  mine! 


25 

Mine!  —  but  hark!  she's  near  —  almost  enough  to 

hear 

Her  voice,  —  to  see  her  smile  —  to  hear  her  say 
Something  to  me  most  dear —  (all  her  words  are 

cheer!) 

Run!  O  my  soul  to  meet  her!  my  lady  is  on  her 
way! 

39 


26 

O'er  green,  lush  meadow  lands,  with  roses  in  her 

hands 
She  cometh  to  the  morning  tryst  treading  with 

nameless  grace  — 
With   tremulous  eye  and  heaving  breast,  —  tokens 

of  love's  divine  unrest 

She  comes!     She's  here!     All  heaven  is  in  the 
place ! 

27 

Hours  of  weary  waiting  over,  with  happy  heart,  thy 

happy  lover! 

By  thy  divinest  side  feels  supremest  bliss: 
Feels  the  utter  gladness,  born  of  former  sadness: 
All  music's  subtlest  charms,  were  they  not  pre 
sages  of  this? 

28 

Where  shall  we  wander,  sweet?     On  shores  where 

wild  waves  greet 

The  bald,  bare  rocks  and  break  in  angry  foam? 
Or  where  the  spreading  plain  waves  all  with  yellow- 
grain  ? 

Or  shall  we  through  dark  shadowy  woodlands 
roam? 


29 

Or  shall  we  slowly  stray  where  silver  streamlets 

play? 
Reflecting  heaven's   own   lustre   in   their  waters 

clear  ? 
Whither?     No  matter  whither!     Are  we  not  love 

together? 

All  places  are  as  Paradise  if  thou  be  with  me 
there ! 

40 


30 

Aye!   ever  when   thou're  near,   I   rise   to  heaven's 

sphere 
For  in  thy  eyes  reflected  shine  back  the  starry 

skies  ; 

And  gazing  in  those  true  pure  orbs  of  heavenly  hue 
I  see  the  shining  portals  of  my  heart's  Paradise. 


Ah,  sweet  is  music's  power,  when  thou  at  such  an 

hour 
Doth  gayly,   gladly  sing  clear  strains  that  har 

monize 
With  the  skylark's  song  of  love,  falling  from  skies 

above 
I  dream  I  hear  an  angel  blest,  singing  in  Paradise. 

32 

And  in  the  peerless  power,  of  beauty's  magic  dower 

I  see  at  morn  beneath  clear  cloudless  skies 
She   whom,  —  my   love's   emotion    transformed    to 

saint's  devotion  — 

I  worship  as  Love  whose  power  alone  makes  earth 
a  Paradise. 


TO  ONE  WHO  WILL  NEVER  SEE  IT 
MY  LADY  CAROLINE 

This  morn  I  watched  the  golden  orb  of  day 
Rise  from  the  bosom  of  a  rippling  bay, 
Whose  waves  blushed  rosy  red  to  greet  the  sight 
Of  him  for  whom  they'd  waited  all  the  night. 
His  burning  face  behind  a  purple  cloud 
Shone  like  a  blood-red  disc  in  misty  shroud. 
But  as  the  mists,  wind  blown,  far  seaward  rolled 

41 


Oh  then  how  grandly  did  his  powers  unfold 
Till  all  the  ocean  danced  in  living  gold. 

Soon  did  his  shining  beams  the  heavens  fill 

O'er  all  the  earth  with  power  they  did  prevail  — 

As  lightning  swift,  they  leaped  from  hill  to  hill 
A  golden  flood,  they  spread  from  vale  to  vale. 

Sadly  I  walked,  —  neither  the  dancing  sea 
Bedecked  with  sun-bright,  glimmering  jewelry, 
Earth  dew-impearled,  nor  opal  broidered  sky 
Could  make  the  shadows  from  my  sad  soul  fly. 
Yet  had  I  walked  on  desert  sands  all  bare 
Of  waving  trees  and  nature's  beauteous  bloom; 

Or  on  a  rocky,  sea-girt,  island  where, 
Was  only  heard  the  breakers'  sullen  boom; 
Or  on  an  arctic  snow-plain  cold  and  bleak, 
Where  winter  reigned,  —  as  far  as  eye  could  seek  — 
Yet  if  with  me,  my  heart's  heart,  thou  wert  there 
The  rocky  island  —  snow-plain,  —  all  were  fair ! 
The  desert  sands  would  blossom  as  the  rose; 
The   breakers   boom  —  as  murmuring  stream   that 

flows ; 

All  scenes,  all  sounds,  would  fair  and  pleasant  be, 
For  thou  my  love  art  all  the  world,  and  all  humanity 

to  me. 


For  were  I  wandering  in  bare  desert  lands 
Thy  presence  were  as  springs  in  burning  sands 
And  were  I  on  an  icy  plain  thy  mouth 
Would  with  thy  kisses  bring  the  balmy  south; 
No  rocks  were  rough  if  I  my  head  could  rest 
On  the  dear  comfort  of  thy  fragrant  breast; 
No  sounds  were  harsh,  could  I  that  hour  hear 
The  music  of  thy  voice  so  sweet  and  clear. 
With  thee,  all  sounds  and  sight  would  pleasant  be 
For  thou  my  love  art  all  the  world  and  all  humanity 
to  me. 

42 


VIII 

And  oft  at  midnight  hour  a  restless  feeling 

Drove  me  to  wander  through  wild  ways  forlorn: 

Or,  —  pen  in  hand  —  my  inmost  thoughts  reveal 
ing 
Would  write  until  the  dawning  of  the  morn. 


AT  MIDNIGHT 


What  stirs  me  so?     What  means  this  restless  feel* 
ing? 

This  wish  to  roam? 

Why  am  I  thus  at  midnight  softly  stealing 
Towards  her  darkened  home? 


Through  me  —  all  thrilling  —  how  I  cannot  say 

Yearnings  are  flowing 
That  urges  —  presses  me  both  night  and  day 

Ever  to  be  going,  — 


To  the  palace,  where  all  sweetly  sleeping 
She  lies  tonight,  I  know. 

My  veins!     What  burning  fire  is  keeping! 
My  heart,  what  quenchless  glow! 


At  my  feet  dew-laden,  fair  flowers  cluster. 

Would  that  I  were  there! 
The  moon  and  stars  then  would  lose  their  lustre 

For  she  is  more  fair. 

43 


Though  the  earth  is  bathed  in  floods  of  moonlight; 

And  stars  as  diamonds  sparkling; 
Though   open   fields  and   plains  are,   as  the   noon, 
bright 

And  groves  with  shadows  darkling,  — 


Though  through  hours,  sweet  flowers  are  incense 
breathing 

On  the  balmy  air 
And  leaves  and  vines  are  magic  garlands  wreathing 

Around  me  everywhere,  — 


Yet  vain  are  all  the  charms  that  nature's  wearing 

Summer's  bright  gladness 
Amid  each  fairest  scene,  my  heart  is  wearing 

A  weight  of  sadness. 

8 

To  still  my  heart's  unrest,  —  ever  essaying 

Hopeless  griefs  to  fly 
I  thus  through  midnight  groves  am  sadly  straying 

Through  lonely  woodlands  hie. 


At  midnight!     Is  my  love  in  beauty  sleeping 
Through  these  hours  so  bright? 

Or  is  she  as  her  lover,  lonely  keeping 

Watch  through  the  hours  of  night? 
44 


10 


If  she  sleeps,  with  joy's  fullest  measure 
May  her  dreams  be  blest! 

Whilst  my  bliss  her  image  pure  to  treasure 
Deep  within  my  breast. 


II 


Is  she  kneeling,  praying  for  her  lover 
Whilst  her  heart  o'erflows? 

Oh,  beloved !     May  angels  round  thee  hover 
And  all  of  heaven  disclose! 


12 


And  oh,  may  all  the  prayers  that  melt  or  move  thee 

Full  fruition  crown! 
Ascending  to  the  heaven  of  bliss  above  thee 

Fall  in  blessing  down! 


Dost  thou  dream  ?     O  dream  of  me  sweet  angel ! 

My  heart's  blest  star! 
Light  of  my  lonely  life !  —  love's  fair  evangel ! 

So  near  and  yet  so  far! 


All  weary  am  I  with  my  soul  contending  - 

O  tyrannous  desires! 
Come  holy  Peace  from  heaven  descending 

Assuage  my  heart's  fierce  fires! 

45 


You  understand  but  feebly,  friend,  from  these  weak 

rhymes 
How  love's  sweet  music  filled  and   thrilled  my 

heart 
Through    balmy    days    of    which    some    lingering 

chimes 

Since  then  have  been  of  all  my  dreams  a  part. 
I  know  at  best  I  have  but  ill-defined 

The  sweet  and  bitter  tumults  of  my  soul 
Where  love's  delight  to  sorrow  still  inclined 
As,  changing  ever,  waves  of  ocean  roll. 


But  still  what  joy  was  ours  —  what  sweet  content ! 

We  were  as  notes  in  perfect  unison 
Where  heart  with  heart  in  sympathy  was  blent 

E'en  as  two  chords  harmonious,  blend  in  one; 
Enwrapped  as  in  a  veil  of  rhythmic  dreams 

Woven  by  song  entrancing  hours  were  given 
Wafted  on  music's  bright  rejoicing  streams 

We  breathed   the  air  and  touched  the  shore  of 
heaven. 


And  as  I  lie  here  all  day  long,  and  dream 

Musing  upon  those  hours  forever  past 
I  scarcely  know  what  one  my  heart  would  deem 

In  happiness  all  others  had  surpassed, 
Yet  there  is  one,  transfixed  indelibly 

Upon  my  mind,  because  in  after  years 
There  was  a  sequel,  dear  —  that  curl  to  me 
Was  given  and  that  note  which  thou  didst  see 

With   usage   soiled,    and    stained    with   sorrow's 
tears. 

46 


4 

That  summer  morn!  —  O  ne'er  shall  I  forget! 

Entwined  with  jasmine  was  the  ancient  tower, 
And  when  I  catch  its  sweet  scent,  —  even  yet 

I  seem  to  live  again  that  happy  hour. 
It  was  a  perfumed,  sunlit,  perfect  day, 

When  all  the  verdant  hills  and  vales  did  vie 
In  loveliness  that  faded,  faint  away 

Into  the  arms  of  the  all-embracing  sky. 

5 

I  stood  beside  her,  while  her  fingers  ran 

Lightly  across  the  ivory  keys  —  they  seemed 
Like  rose-leaves  blown  by  wind  —  then  she  began 

A  simple  song  —  a  gentle  strain,  love-dreamed. 
What   moved   her   then?     She   paused.     Her   eyes 
divine 

Filled  with  bright  tears,  as  with  a  tremulous  sigh 
She  lifted  them  beseechingly  to  mine 

And  murmured  softly  —  "  Tell  me,  Master,  why 


My  music  all  so  cold  and  frigid  seems  ?  — 

So  lifeless  —  so  unlike  the  thrilling  notes 
Thy  touch  evokes,  —  so  sweet  at  time  one  deems 

An  angel's  voice  around  then  softly  floats. 
Though  mine  may  perfect  be  technically 

It  something  lacks  that  baffles  all  my  skill,  — 
Some  subtle  power,  —  passion  —  intensity 

All  tones  I  try  —  yet  it  eludes  me  still. 

7 

If  thou  but  press  the  keys  thy  hands  beneath 
With  noonday  fervor  doth  the  music  glow 

The  fragrance  of  fresh  flowers  around  then  breathe 
And  strains  from  harps  Eolian  seem  to  blow, 

47 


And  every  changing  cadence  thrills  my  heart 
Expression  giving  to  some  mood  of  mine, 

Moods  of  which  joy  and  sadness  are  a  part  — 
And  each  with  power  that  seems  almost  divine. 

8 

Earth  seems  to  fade  away,  —  and  as  the  beams 

Of  dawn  tints  all  with  its  own  beauteous  sheen 
Life's  stream,   from  music's  charms,  more  brightly 
gleams, 

Each  day  is  fairer,  each  hour  more  serene. 
Oh  much  I  fear  that  I  may  never  gain 

Such  power  as  thine,  —  it  dwells  from  me  as  far 
And  seems  and  high  and  hopeless  to  attain 

As  if  it  were  some  distant  shining  star. 


How  blest  that  hour!  of  all  my  life  most  fair 

When  thy  sweet  music  first  entranced  my  soul 
As  some  seraphic  being  of  the  air 

With  tuneful  voice  it  round  me  softly  stole, 
Uplifting  fancy  till  it  soared  to  spheres 

Quivering  with  strange  new  life,  —  a  life  of  joy 
Where  brighter,  fairer,  lovelier,  all  appears 

Yielding  a  pleasure  keen,  without  alloy. 


10 

If  but  a  simple  air  is  by  thee  played 

The  music  flows  a  gushing,  living  stream. 
When  I  to  play  the  same  notes  have  essayed 

How  cold  and  lifeless  did  the  numbers  seem. 
'Tis  ever  thus  —  and  vainly  do  I  try 

To  give  the  life  thy  sweet  impassioned  strain 
So  purely  breathes.     Thy  secret  tell,  that  I 

Unto  such  marvelous  power  as  thine  attain. 
48 


II 

What  answer  could  I  make?     All  the  drear  past 

Came  back  to  me — A  childhood  of  dark  gloom. 
I  shivered  then,  for  as  I  backward  cast 

My  mind,  I  seemed  to  see  again  the  room 
Cheerless  and  cold  to  which  an  ill-clad  boy 

Came  in  the  early  dawn  of  wintry  day 
To  practice  music.     So  pinched  was  he  the  joy 

His  love  of  music  brought  could  not  allay 


12 

The  pangs  of  hunger,  nor  the  sting  of  cold, 

And  so  forlorn,  my  heart  thrilled  pityingly 
Even  then  for  this  poor  child,  so  young,  yet  old 

In  all  the  woes  of  orphaned  penury. 
And  once  again  my  memory  brought  to  me 

The  after  years  when  I  had  older  grown 
Still  followed  by  relentless  poverty, 

Oft  stung  by  cruelties  the  world  had  shown. 

13 

Now  looking  down  upon  this  dainty  child 

Favored  alike  by  fortune  and  by  birth 
Who  questioned  me  with  eyes  so  sweet  and  mild 

I  wildly  stammered  "  Never  on  this  earth 
Comes  power  until  our  hearts  feel  and  know 

Dark  hour  of  grief  in  which  our  hopes  expire. 
From  the  full  heart  the  fervent  strains  must  flow 

If  they  to  touch  another's  would  aspire. 


When  feeling  prompt  thy  strains  and  passion  fired 
They    from    thy   own    heart's    deepest   fountains 

flow 
All  breathless  to  these  sounds,  deep,  soul-inspired 

49 


Their  hearts  will  catch  the  flame  and  kindling, 

glow, 
'Experience!     Never  since  life  began 

Had  music-moving  power  untaught  of  thee!' 
But  this  thou  understandest  not,  nor  can 

Till  Life  shall  teach  thee.     Hear  thou  me:  — 


15 

Would  thou  my  secret  know?     The  bitter  school 

Of  poverty  was  mine,  —  exacting,  stern. 
Beneath  whose  harsh  and  soul-embittering  rule 

I  pray  my  Lady,  you  may  never  learn! 
This  school  so  hard  was  yet  a  faithful  friend 

That  ever  urged  me  on  to  new  endeavor :  — 
The  coming  years  to  you  may  sorrows  send, 

But  what   I've  borne,   may  you  be  spared   for 
ever!" 


16 

I  ended  in  such  passion,  that  her  tears 

Brimmed  over.     Then  I  told  her  all  my  life 
Commencing  with  my  first  remembered  years 

And  all  the  after  time  of  hope  and  strife. 
Ah,  then  upon  her  face  what  grief  divine,  — 

What  sympathetic  sorrow  gently  stole! 
Her  hand  she  laid  impulsively  on  mine 

While  tears  proclaimed  her  tenderness  of  soul. 


17 

Memory  most  blest !     I  reverently  recall 

Those  tears  of  sympathy  that  day  so  freely  given. 

Such  single-hearted  grief!     When  such  tears  fall 
Their  radiance  surely  reaches  unto  highest  heaven ! 

Yet  smiling  through  her  tears  with  such  sweet  grace 
Her  tears  from  smiles  seemed  such  a  charm  to 
borrow 


They  added  lustre  to  her  lovely  face  — 

And  were  adorning  pearls,  —  not  veil  of  sorrow. 


18 

"  Then    I    must    wait    for    time    to    bring    such 

powers?  "  — 

After  a  thoughtful  pause,  she  gently  said. 
"  For  Life  and  Grief  go  hand-clasped  through  the 

hours ; 

I'll  surely  let  you  know  if  e'er  their  dread 
Dark  presence  doth  me  with  this  gift  endow. 

But  now,  please  play  some  inspiration  given 
Since   last  we   met."     With   throbbing   heart   and 

brow 
I  played  as  with  a  power  direct  from  heaven. 


19 

The  burning  thoughts  that  filled  me  in  that  hour 

The  love  that  I  so  sternly  had  concealed 
Thrilled   through  my  strains  with  a  newly-awak 
ened  power 

That  each  emotion  of  my  heart  revealed. 
I  paused  and  looked  into  those  eyes  of  blue 

That  drooped  beneath  my  ardent  gaze    (Ah  then 
I  trembled!)      "  This  I  wrote  and  thought  of  you," 

I  whispered  as  I  touched  the  keys  again. 


SONG 


My  love  is  a  garden  of  spices  fair 

Where  myrrh,  and  balm,  and  spikenard,  grow 
But  none  may  breathe  these  odors  rare 

Save  winds  of  heaven  that  changing  blow. 


For  a  garden  inclosed,  a  fountain  sealed :  — * 
Sweets  undisclosed,  streams  unrevealed 
Is  this  sweet  love  of  mine. 


Down  on  it  gaze  the  stars  above. 

(O  happy  stars!)     The  skies  I'd  be 
That  with  ten  thousand  eyes  of  love 

I  might  each  heavenly  beauty  see  — 
Or  e'en  a  bee  that  sips  its  blooms; 
Or  wind  that  breathes  its  sweet  perfumes. 
Alas!  it  may  not  be. 


But  when  I  sleep,  my  heart  awakes 
And  flees  to  where  its  garlands  twine 

And  my  untrammelled  soul  partakes 
Of  bliss  that  only  then  is  mine. 

What  passion-flowers  then  round  me  rise 

Flame-hearted,  whose  deep  chalices 
Diffuse  perfumes  divine! 


I  hear  the  sound  of  falling  streams; 

Soft  voices  murmur  in  the  grove ; 
A  mist  melodious  fills  my  dreams, 

And  all  my  spirit  draws  to  Love :  - 
Her  lips  like  lilies  drop  perfumes 
Her  lustrous  eyes  the  night  illum'ns 
And  me  to  transports  move; 


"  My  love  is  a  garden  inclosed,  a  fountain  sealed.' 
Solomon. 

52 


Wherever  sweetest  spices  fall, 

Where  myrrhy  trees  drop  gums,  where  flowers 
Throw  showers  of  incense  over  all 

She  leads  me  to  her  blissful  bowers: 
My  spirit  pants  to  joys  divine. 
O  would  such  dreams  might  e'er  be  mine 
Nor  wake  to  lonely  hours! 


My  love  is  a  fountain  crystal  clear 
Whose  sparkling  waters  are  divine 

Though  all  my  soul  faints  for  its  cheer 
It  never,  never,  may  be  mine 

For  a  garden  inclosed,  —  a  fountain  sealed  — 

Sweets  undisclosed,  —  streams  unrevealed 
Is  this  fair  love  of  mine. 


O  blessed  fount  of  all  delight! 

My  heart  is  famished  for  the  streams 
That,  like  a  glittering  mirage  bright 

Haunt  evermore  my  fevered  dreams. 
O  longing  heart  of  mine,  give  o'er! 

For  Flower  and  Fountain  cease  to  pine. 
Thy  fate  to  fast  'mid  bounteous  store, 

And  thirst  where  foams  the  wine! 

8 

The  sun  adown  the  western  sky 
Sinks  into  dreamy,  deathlike  rest; 

The  wandering  airs  of  summer  die 
Upon  the  ocean's  heaving  breast. 

Oh,  were  I  as  the  air,  the  sun 

This  breaking  heart  would  die  upon 

Thy  heart  my  love,  and  rest. 

53 


20 

Was  I  too  bold  ?  trembling  I  looked  at  her 

Upon  her  hand,  her  dainty  head  reclined 
Her  cheeks  with  deepest  blushes  tinted  were 

While  on  her  hair,  disheveled  by  the  wind 
The   sunbeams    through    the   window    leaped    and 
spread 

Their  golden  rays,  and  like  an  angel  blest 
They  with  a  glittering  aureole  crowned  her  head 

And  kissed  to  warmth  the  roses  on  her  breast. 


21 

They  glimmered  on  her  laces  sheer  and  fine 

While  on  her  draperies,  falling  fold  on  fold 
They  wrought  in  gleaming  gold  a  rare  design 

Like  some  all-wise  artificer  of  old. 
Standing  beside  the  window  in  sweet  grace 

With  tears  of  love's  own  passion  glittering  where 
Sweet  smiles  and  blushes  mingled  on  her  face 

She  made  a  picture  most  divinely  fair. 

22 

My  soul  grew  weak,  for  O  how  hard  for  me 

To  feel  love-languid,  questioning,  tearful  eyes 
Resting  on  mine  —  yet  never  dare  to  see  — 

To  hold  in  leash  the  passion  that  would  rise. 
She  turned  aside  and  smote  the  light  guitar 

Soft  as  Eolian  harps  by  zephyrs  rung 
Arose  the  strains  while  by  the  lattice  bar 

I  stood  and  improvising  gayly  sung! — 


A  minstrel  at  a  lattice 

Stood  and  of  his  love  sang  he :  — 
"  O  have  you  seen  my  Queen  of  Hearts? 

54 


Fairest  of  fair  is  she! 
Crowned  by  the  golden  sunbeams 

She  like  a  goddess  stands 
And  music  flows  in  strains  divine 

From  her  diviner  hands. 


She  is  of  all  earth's  jewels 

The  dearest  and  the  best 
And  ever  will  her  image  be 

Upon  this  heart  impressed 
An  image  fair  and  debonair 

Pure  as  an  angel  blest 
With  sunbeams  on  her  brighter  hair 

And  roses  on  her  breast. 


Her  brow  is  like  to  ivory 

That  gleameth  in  the  sun 
But  never  ivory  was  so  fair 

So  sweet  to  look  upon  — 
So  sweet  to  look  upon 

And  O  her  glancing  eye  — 
'Tis  brighter  far  than  love's  own  star 

That  gems  the  morning  sky! 


Her  voice  is  like  the  zephyr 

That  soft  at  evening  sighs 
And  when  she  sings  methinks  I  hear 

Angels  in  Paradise. 
No  sweeter  sang  Cecilia 

When  she  drew  the  angel  throng 
Down  from  celestial,  blissful  heights 

To  listen  to  her  song. 

55 


And,  though  to  songs  of  heaven 

Hers  seems  a  glad  refrain 
Yet  the  dewy  rosebloom  of  her  lips 

Is  sweeter  than  the  strain! 
And  could  I  by  some  magic 

Transform  self  and  transpose 
O  in  the  song  I'd  hide  to  kiss 

The  mouth  through  which  it  flows! 


Or  I  would  be  a  fragrant  rose 

Within  her  garden  bowers 
For  when  by  dew-drops  bright  impearled 

Perfuming  young-eyed  Hours 
Perchance  my  Lady  passing 

Would  see,  —  and  O  how  blest 
Were  I  if  she  would  pluck  and  take 

Me  to  her  snowy  breast! 

7 

Ah  me !     How  poor  are  phrases 

Such  love  as  mine  to  tell 
Yet  had  I  words  I  dare  not  speak 

So  high  my  love  doth  dwell. 
O  bitter  love  and  hopeless 

That  pales  the  lip  and  cheek! 
Such  love  fills  all  this  burdened  heart 

That  breaks  but  will  not  speak. 

8 

Yet  even  to  the  woes  of  love 

All  other  joys  are  vain 
If  it  bring  death,  'tis  sweet  to  die 

Of  love's  exquisite  pain. 
And  when  in  death  I'm  lying 

56 


Should  Pride  around  me  stand 
Say  that  my  love  was  as  nobly  given 
As  the  highest  in  the  land. 


Alas,  alas,  life's  roses 

Will  ne'er  on  earth  be  mine! 
And  ever  must  this  burdened  heart 

In  hopeless  longing  pine! 
Yet,  Lady,  would  that  rose  so  white 

Upon  thy  breast,  were  mine  — 
'Twere  worth  a  hundred  kisses  pressed 

On  lips  less  sweet  than  thine !  " 


22 


She  blushed,  but  spoke  not;  pale  as  if  from  pain 

She  with  a  gentle  stately  grace  arose 
And  passed  from  thence,  but  yet  without  disdain, 

For  ere  she  went,  she  kissed  and  gave  the  rose. 
That  is  the  rose  I  shewed  thee  friend  of  mine 

I've  treasured  it  through  weary  months  and  years. 
'Tis  weak  you  say  in  hopeless  grief  to  pine. 

Yet  oft  I've  wept  upon  it  bitter  tears. 


It  tells  me,  friend,  though  from  her  parted  long 

We  once  together  "  sank  the  stars  to  sleep  " 
And  doth  recall  how  then  in  mutual  song 

Our  souls  seemed  one,  and  so  remembering  weep, 
Forgive  me  friend  that  oft  I've  absent  seemed, 

'Twas  then  her  spirit  seemed  to  linger  near 
And  many  nights  how  oft  of  her  I've  dreamed 

And  fed  my  mind  that  died  for  want  of  her! 

57 


IX 


The  palace  looked  o'er  broad  fields  to  the  ocean : 

From  the  square  casements  of  its  antique  towers 
One  plainly  saw  the  waves,  when  in  commotion 

Foam    like    a   field    of   wind-blown,    snow-white 

flowers. 
Beyond  green  hills  the  towering  mountains  rose 

Whose  rugged  frames  disguised  by  mighty  trees 
Did  many  a  gorge  and  shadowy  vale  disclose 

Where  sparkling  waters  wooed  the  cooling  breeze. 


Here  oft  we'd  wander  to  some  upland  high 

When  sunset  rays  —  bright  as  an  angel's  wing  — 
Did  soar  and  sail  far  up  the  shining  sky 

As  if  to  heaven  itself  they  would  upspring. 
Then  would  we  climb  the  upward,  rock-strewn  way 

Where  in  wild  loveliness  sweet  flowers  did  bloom, 
With  many  a  pause  the  landscape  to  survey 

Till  daylight  died  in  evening's  purple  gloom  — 


Till  daylight  died,  and  the  waning  moon  hung  low — 

A  horn  of  silver  in  the  darkening  skies  — 
Then  homeward  took  our  way,  idly  and  slow 

Watching  the  glowing  stars  with  dreamful  eyes. 
Sweet  Summer-Night !     How  like  an  Af ric  queen 

Adorned  with  gems!     Diamonds  so  rarely  bright 
Ne'er  decked  the  crown  of  Eastern  king  I  ween 

Nor  on  the  brow  of  beauty  shed  such  light 

58 


As  thy  refulgent  stars !  —  Still  shining  young 

And  clear  as  when  they  shone  on  ancient  Troy  — 
Or  e'en  that  morn  when  earth  from  chaos  sprung  — 

When  all  the  sons  of  God  did  shout  for  joy, 
And  all  the  morning  stars  together  sung!  — 
But  not  of  this  we  thought,  —  our  eyes  aglow 

With  thoughts  our  trembling  lips  left  all  untold 
We  silent  sat,  or  with  voice  soft  and  low 

I  sang  to  her  some  romant  strange  and  old.  — 


Or,  listening  to  the  deeply  sounding  sea 

Whose  endless  roar  by  distance  softened,  swept 
A  music  o'er  our  hearts,  all  tremblingly 

They  to  life's  deepest,  subtlest  meaning  leapt. 
At  such  an  hour,  my  soul  on  joyous  wing 

Above  my  life's  perplexities  so  real 
And  all  material  things  would  high  upspring 

Unto  a  realm  pure,  perfect  and  ideal. 


Where  to  live  and  love,  immortally  were  one ; 

Where   justice   reigned,    and   all   mankind   were 

free ; 
Where  Rank's  pride-gilded  barriers  were  unknown : 

Where  Science  hand-clasped  with  sweet  Poesy; 
And  the  "  almighty  Power  of  Good  "  o'er  sea 
And  earth  and  air  held  sublime  victory. 

7 

Within  the  centre  of  one  verdant  lawn 

There  gushed  a  sparkling  fountain  crystal  clear 

When  day  declined  by  kindred  feelings  drawn 
We  sometimes  met  and  sat  together  there. 

And  there  one  eve  while  listening  to  its  song 

59 


Mingling  with  nightingale's,  up  in  the  trees  — 
Watching    the   white    doves   soar   and    wheel    and 

throng 
I  sang,  until  my  Lady  came,  words  like  these :  — 


SONG 


Why  lingers  my  loved   one? —     The  daylight  is 

over. 
Hush !   nightingales,  —  hush !     Your   songs   loud 

and  clear 

That,  longing  and  listening,  I  first  may  discover 
The  light  sound  that  tells  me  her  footsteps  draw 

near. 
Trim  thy  lamp,  O  thou  planet  of  Love  high  above; 

her 

And  lighten  the  pathway  of  thy  more  than  com 
peer! 


O  white  doves  that  hover,  where  the  fountain  brims 

over, 
To  seek  your  dark  coverts,  'tis  time  now,  —  'tis 

time! 
For  truly  my  Lady  keeps  tryst  with  her  lover 

At  this  hour  when  sweetly  the  vesper  bells  chime. 
Oh  bells !  ring  as  never  before,  —  and  discover 
To  her  all  the  grandeur  of  love  in  its  prime. 

3 

The  night-dews  are  falling  on  meadows  and  clover; 

The  stars  are  appearing  in  darkening  skies. 
On  my  deep  spirit,  where  the  dark  shadows  hover 

Thou  star  of  my  soul,  arise,  —  O  arise ! 
60 


And  let  song  and  love,  —  heaven's  lights,  impend 


over 


Around  and  about  us  rapturous-wise! 


O  Moon  in  the  east,  so  wan  and  dim-shining ! 

I  have  seen  you  at  full  in  your  bright  silver  car, 
'Tis  well  that  tonight  your  rays  are  declining 
For  my  Lady  would  outshine  you  as  the  sun  doth 

the  star. 
And   thou  fair  Hesperus,  —  that  so  brightly  doth 

sparkle  — 

A  clear  shining  jewel  on  the  evening  skies,  — 
Soon,  soon,  as  if  clouded  thy  brightness  will  darkle 
Eclipsed  by  the  brightness  that  gleams  from  her 
eyes! 


Hasten!  heart's  dearest!     The  daylight  is  over; 

All  sadly  the  hours  of  waiting  have  passed: 
Long  hours  dividing  my  love  from  her  lover. 

Hasten !  Oh  hasten !     For  the  time  will  fly  fast. 
The  last  light  has  faded  —  the  west  wind,  the  rover 

Flies  where  the  forest  his  shadows  have  cast. 
She  cometh !     All  joys  around  seem  to  hover 

And  cares  fly  away  like  a  leaf  in  the  blast. 
And  my  soul  to  my  love  forever  and  ever 

Like  a  flood  at  its  full,  surges  wildly  and  fast. 
And  when  she   came  —  how  sweet  the  long  twi 
light,  — 

The  gloaming  dim,  whose  light's  soft  shadowy 

ray 
Did  as  a  strange  and  silvery  clasp  unite 

Night's  darkness  with  the  lingering  light  of  day! 
Sometimes  we  talked  —  gazing  on  starbeam  bright, 

Sometimes  we  sang,  —  touching  the  light  guitar. 
Soft  was  her  voice  as  sphere  music  raying  light 
61 


From  silvery  portals  of  the  evening  star. 
One  eve  when  sunset  fires  tinged  all  the  blue 

And    rose-red    vapors    through    the    heavens    up- 

sprang 
While  seaward,  curlews,  like  black  meteors,  flew 

My  Lady  smote  the  strings,  and  softly  sang: 

SONG 


"  Love,  for  one  day  only  came,  and  made  life  one 
glad  song. 

Oh,  he  was  honey-sweet  and  fair  to  see! 
As  if  on  angel's  wings  those  hours  sped  swift  along. 

Ah,  happy  day,  could  you  not  stay  with  me  ? 


But  sad-browed  Night  came  down,  and  covered  all 

the  light 

All  the  glad  light  of  Love's  fair  sun,  ah  me ! 
The  death-black  Night  came  down,  nor  Moon,  nor 

Starbeam  bright 
And  naught  is  left  but  darkness  unto  me. 


Alas!     Alas!  if  distant  lands,  or  wide,  wide  seas 
Had  parted  us  and  did  my  love  detain 

I  had  not  hopeless  been,  for  some  kind  breeze 
Would  waft  him  back  to  love  me  true  again! 

4 

But  he  is  dead,  —  and,  in  the  grave,  O  God !    and 

gone! 

Oh  still   I   dream  —  e'en  though   the   dream  be 
vain  — 

62 


Of  a  sweet  vale  of  all  delights,  where  I  anon 
Shall  live  and  love,  and  light  be  mine  again !  " 


Thrilled  with  emotions  that  precluded  speech 

We  sat  awhile  in  silence,  then  I  said 
"  Goethe  the  depths  of  woe  essayed  to  reach 

His  '  Sorrows  of  Werther '  thou  hast  doubtless 

read?" 
She  shook  her  head,  then  murmured  gently  "  Try 

Master,  in  song,  this  sad  love  to  portray." 
She  lightly  smote  the  strings,  while  slowly  I 

Arose,  and  improvising  did  essay 
This  hopeless  love  to  sing,  yet  also  strove 

In  subtle  measures  to  express  my  love. 


WERTHER  TO  CHARLOTTE 


Afar  on  the  horizon's  rim 
Gleam  palely  fair,  and  faintly  dim 

Blue  skies  which  stoop  to  kiss  the  rippling  sea: 
Desire  of  such  a  union  sweet 
As  where  the  skies  and  waters  meet 

Stirs  all  my  soul  in  longings  deep  for  thee. 


If  I  but  faintly  hear  thy  name 

Through  my  being  like  a  flame 
Rushes  the  vermeil  flood,  and  all  my  heart 

Bursts  into  living  bloom 

Filling  with  heaven's  perfume 
The  garden  of  my  soul  whose  rose  thou  art! 

63 


Or  if  to  me  thou  comest  near, 
And  thy  sweet  voice  in  song  I  hear 

Melts  all  my  soul  in  saddest,  tenderest  yearning, 
My  tearful  eyes  in  fond  delight 
Gaze  on  thy  features,  smiling  bright 

And  in  thy  face  seem  heaven  itself  discerning. 


And  yesterday  —  forgive !  forgive ! 

Ah,  then  I  should  have  ceased  to  live !  — 
For  the  first  time  I  felt  love's  rapture  in  my  soul ! 

Still,  still,  burns  on  these  lips  of  mine  — 

The  sacred  fire  received  from  thine  — 
What  oceans  of  delight  did  'whelming  roll!* 


In  the  blest  Paradise  thus  brought 

Nothing  was  left,  —  no  wish,  —  no  thought 
All  bliss  in  those  short  moments  was  enshrined 

In  thy  embraces  glorified 

My  yearning  tears  were  straightway  dried 
But  ah,  the  harsh  farewell  was  hid  behind! 


All  things  of  earth  will  pass  away 
All  mortal  hopes  will  know  decay 

But  eternity  cannot  destroy  the  flame 
Which  was  enkindled  by  thy  kiss 
And  which  now  fills  my  soul  with  bliss 

Such  love  immortal  is,  from  heaven  it  came. 


*  Werther's    exact    words    transposed    from    Goethe's 
Sorrows  of  Werther." 

64 


Think  not  I  dream  or  idly  rave 

For  drawing  nearer  to  the  grave 
My  spirit  rapt  transcending  sense  and  time 

Sees  calm  in  changeless  bliss  above 

Our  souls  united  still  in  love; 
Eternity  our  bridal  day  sublime." 

How  sweet  those  hours  my  friend !     For,  evermore 

Music  with  angel  wings  around  did  move 
And  then  we  felt,  to  being's  inmost  core 

The  "  twofold  joy  of  music  and  of  love." 
When  by  her  side  no  fears  disturbed  my  breast, 

So  all-complete  was  love's  sweet  sovereignty; 
But  when  alone  sad  prescience  without  rest 

Forever  sighed  "  Soon  must  thou  parted  be!  " 


One  day  I  wandered  by  a  river,  whose  bright  waves 

went  murmuring  ever 
On  their  way  slow-winding  to  the  far-off,  vast 

and  unknown  sea  — 
Like  the  stream  of  life  e'er  flowing,  to  eternity  not 

knowing 
Whence  it  cometh, — whither  going — yet,  which 

e'er  obediently  — 

To    a    law    divine,    supernal,    all    unchanging    and 
eternal 

Floweth  onward  ceaselessly. 


Nature,  that  day,  had  gone  Maying,  winds  were 

fluttering  flowers  and  playing; 
Maybells  with  white  foam  were  spraying  grassy 
slopes  and  meadows  green; 

65 


While  from  many  a  leafy  dwelling  such  a  choir  of 

notes  rose  welling 
Through   the   mazy  shadows,  —  telling   to   each 

listener,  though  all  unseen 
What   blest    hearts   the   wildwood   covers,  —  what 

spring-quickened  happy  lovers 
Whose  sweet  song  e'er  hangs  and  hovers,  in  each 
ear  that  hears  I  ween 

As  in  the  leafy  glade  terrene. 


On  I  sauntered,  scarcely  knowing,  where  my  truant 

steps  were  going 
Whether  in  the  wood's  recesses,  —  or  with  the 

river  to  the  sea:  — 

Heeding  not  sweet  breezes  blowing,  nor  white  haw 
thorn  blossoms  snowing 
Distant  landscapes,  nor  the  growing  leaves  upon 

the  oaken  tree; 

Where  a  wood  thrush,  wildly  singing  —  on  an  airy 
bough  light  swinging  — 

Poured  her  soul  in  ecstasy. 


For  I  walked  as  in  a  vision  in  bright  sunlit  fields 

Elysian 
Where  my  fancy's  vain  prevision  wove  illusions 

all  the  way 
Woodland   groves  seemed   bowers  Arcadian  where 

with  me  a  radiant  maiden 
Walked   as   happy  as  in  Aiden  blest  immortals 

joyous  stray,  — 

Or  as  those  thy  fanes  enwreathing  on  some  ancient 
festal  day 

O  Venus  Amathusia! 
66 


Surely    'twas   a   realm   enchanted    for   in    dell   and 

glade  bird-haunted, 
All    the    trembling    leaves    in    all    the    budding, 

blooming,  beauteous  way 
And  the  winds  were  whispering  ever  —  one  sweet 

word  they  both  together 
Whispered  to  the  sighing  river,  and  the  birds  too, 

sang  it  blithe  and  gay 

And  this  word  was  "  Love,  love  "  ever,  only  that  I 
heard  them  say 

By  the  river  that  sweet  day. 


And  I  knew  by  blue  waves  gleaming  that  the  river 

too  was  dreaming 
Felt  its  soul   to  mine  responding  in   a  strange, 

mysterious  way  — 
Then  I  cried  "  Oh,  tell  me  river,  is  not  love  of 

life  the  giver  — 
Doth  it  not  throughout  creation,  highest  sweetest 

joys  convey? 
Softly  as  light  winds  that  shiver,  answered  low  the 

dreamful  river 

Love   is    Eden    recreated,    where   eternal    spring 
holds  sway 

E'en  as  in  earth's  primal  day." 


Slyly   smiled    the   swaying    daisies    in    the    tangled 

meadow  mazes 

And  the  birds,  each  to  his  sweet  mate  nodding 
sagely  seemed  to  say 

"  Of  heaven  and  earth  love  is  the  flower,  the  es 
sence  blest  —  the  subtle  power 


Of  joy,  —  e'en  in  this  woodland  bower,  and  is  of 

good  the  root  and  branch  alway." 
Well  they  knew  without  my  telling,  all  the  love- 
born  fancies  swelling 

From  the  heart's  deep  fountains  welling,  as  their 
joyous  songs  so  gay 

Wells  in  the  flowery  month  of  May. 

8 

But  amidst  those  vernal  bowers,  clinging  vines  and 

fluttering   flowers 
As   a   dove   that   moans   and   cowers,    came   the 

Wind's  voice,  sad,  unmusical 
And  all  weirdly  sung  "  Remember,  autumn  comes, 

and  chill  December 

Then  as  fades  the  dying  ember,  all  the  flowers 
will  fade  and  fall." 

"The   flowers,"    I   sighed,   "must 
perish  all." 

9 

And  beneath  the  love-born  gladness  was  an  under 
tone  of  sadness 
That  ever  whispered  "  Oh,  what  madness !  and, 

sadly  prescient  sighed  alway 
And  ever  murmured  "  Never!    Never!  "    Then  me- 

thought  I  heard  the  river 

Saying    softly    "  You   must    sever,"    as    it    swept 
through  meadows  gay 

With    brightly    tinted    flowers    of 
May. 

10 

And  as  came  to  Dante  hieing,  through  the  shades  of 

hell  the  sighing 

Sounds   of   bitter   woe   undying   so   those   voices 
came  to  me 

68 


And  my  heart  with  knowledge  stricken,  all  too  sure 

for  hope  to  quicken 
In  my  breast  did  faint  and  sicken,  knowing  well 

what  life  did  hold  for  me  — 
Knowing  well  cursed  pride  of  station,  wealth,  and 

titled,  high  cognation 

Would  with  bitter  indignation,  tear  my  love,  my 
life,  from  me 

My  own  by  love's  affinity. 


II 

At  these   thoughts  my  soul   appalling,   showers  of 

tears  'gan  swiftly  falling 
And  while  birds  were  sweetly  calling  to   their 

mates  from  spray  to  spray 
Down  upon  the  ground  in  sorrow,  fell  I,  knowing 

some  tomorrow 
We  must  part   (O  words  of  horror!)   part  and 

fare  alone  alway. 

Oh,  on  that  day,  prone  I  fell  and  wept  my  soul 
away. 

'Twas   in    the    flowery   month    of 
May. 


X 


Thus  all  that  summer  passed,  and  autumn  came, 
And  with  it  came  the  family  to  the  Hall. 

Unmindful    of  their  eyes  we  met  the  same,  — 

Our  guileless  souls  thought  not  of  fear  or  blame. 
Soon  came  the  end,  —  the  last  scene  I  recall. 

That  morning  she  was  silent,  cold  and  sad: 

I  questioned  her,  —  trembling,  she  said  that  we 

Must  meet  no  more,  —  her  father  had  forbade. 


Her  voice  choked,  —  through  tears  she  looked  at  me. 

Oh,  what  a  look !  her  soul  was  in  her  eyes !  — 
All  I  forgot,  wealth,  pride,  and  ancestry 

I  only  saw  that  look  and  heard  those  sighs. 
I  flung  myself  before  her  pleadingly, 

Caught  her  sweet  hand,  which  to  my  lips  I  pressed, 
And  then  in  wild  and  broken  wTords  revealed 

The  all-consuming  love,  that  in  my  breast 
I  had  so  long  with  stern  resolve  concealed. 


It  was  the  bursting  of  the  long-pent  flood 

Of  deep,  deep  love,  —  she  could  not  choose  but 

hear 
The    passionate    words.     Sobbing    with    grief    she 

stood 
While  down  her  cheek  coursed  warm  a  pearly 

tear. 
"Weep  not!     Oh,  sob  not  thus!"  I  cried,  "  Thy 

grief, 

Will  madden  me.     Oh,  grieve  not,  dearest  one! 
Oh,  do  not  take  it  ill,  —  but  past  belief 

Is  the  great  love  that  hath  my  peace  undone!  " 


"  Forgive!  forgive!     But  by  these  burning  tears, 

By  all  my  hours  haunted  of  thee  alone,  — 
Oh,  by  thyself,  I  swear,  not  through  the  years 

Of  any  age  hath  greater  love  been  known 
Purer  or  holier  than  that  which  now 

Burns  in  my  soul  for  thee,  my  love,  —  my  own  — 
Once  I  will  call  thee  so !  —  Oh  scorn  not  thou 

And  blight  the  heart  that  beats  for  thee  alone! 
70 


Is  there  no  voice  within  thy  heart  that  pleads 

For  me?     No  answering  instinct,  sweet  divine 
That  draws  thy  heart  to  mine,  and  intercedes 

As  mine  is  drawn  by  sympathy  to  thine? 
O  Lady  wilt  thou  never  know  the  heart 

That  breaks  in  hopeless  love  for  thee,  for  thee? 
And  canst  thou  say,  that  thou  must  soon  depart 

With  thy  stern  sire,  to  lands  beyond  the  sea? 


Must  part!     It  cannot  be!     Why  Lady  thou  — 

Thou  art  my  life,  —  my  natural  element 
Wherein  I  breathe.     My  food!     Oh,  tell  me  how 

How  can  I  live  from  thee  in  banishment? 
I  ask  not  for  thy  love,  —  I  do  not  dare, 

My  heart,  —  yea  all  my  spirit's  deep  intensity 
Was  freely  given,  —  without  one  thought  or  care, 

And  for  thy  sake  in  silence,  worshiped  thee. 


Oh  say  but  once  thou  hatest  me  not  for  this. 

Speak!     Alas!  thou  weepest.     Weep  not  for  me 
My  gentle  love ;  O,  what  unthought  of  bliss 

To  weep  for  me !     Thy  father  —  can  it  be  ?  — 
Has   threatened    thee?     Then   come,    this    faithful 

heart 
Will  shelter  thee.     Through  life,   in  death,  al- 

way!  — 

What  joy  to  toil  for  thee!     Oh  not  to  part,  — 
We  cannot !     But  speak,  —  and  say  some  sweet 
day 


8 

Thou  too  mayst  love,  —  and  in  another  clime 

Some    happier    land,  —  leagues,    leagues,    beyond 

this  sea 
Thou  wilt  be  mine.     O,  then  the  sands  of  Time 

Will  golden  be!     Then  I  will  live  for  thee, — 
There  will  I  kneel  to  thee  and  worship  thee 

And  call  thee  my  beloved,  my  own,  my  wife! 
O,  wilt  thou,  wilt  thou,  fly  afar  with  me 

Where  love  united  may  find  fullest  life? 


To  some  fair  land  of  sunshine,  fruits  and  flowers 

And  crystal  lakes  arched  o'er  by  shadowy  trees 
Where    verdurous    mountains    rise,    around    whose 
towers 

Untrammeled    flow    the    freshening    wind    that 

breathes 
Odors  from  sweet  spice  islands  nestling  low 

Upon  the  ocean's  softly  heaving  breast  — 
'Tis  there,  — 'tis  there !  beloved  we  will  go 

And  sheltered  in  my  heart  thou  wilt  be  blest! 


10 

And  there  when  evening's  softest  zephyr  sips 

Sweet  fragrance  from  a  thousand  blooms  unseen 
The  sweeter  odor  from  thy  rosered  lips 

I  then  would  breathe.     And  I  would  swooning 

lean 
Body  and  soul,  and  mind,  with  joy  oppressed 

Upon  the  comfort  of  thy  truest,  dearest  breast. 
Firm  is  my  love  as  the  enduring  heaven 

The  fixed  and  constant  stars  shall  ever  be 
So  true  as  is  this  heart,  thus  freely  given ! 

Oh  I  am  all  thine  own !  —  believe  thou  me. 
72 


1 1 


Nor  pain  nor  sorrow,  neither  fleeting  breath 

Nor  the  dark  icy  grave  shall  chill  my  love; 
It  will  survive  beyond  the  bounds  of  death 

And  stronger  grow,  in  brighter  worlds  above ! 
For  we  will  rise  together ;  and  together  roam 

The  starry  radiant  dwellings  of  the  blest, 
And  still  together,  in  the  heart's  sweet  home 

Love's  blest  Elysium,  find  eternal  rest. 


12 


Weep  not  for  me,  my  queen.  —  O  naught  am  I 

Not  worth  a  single  tear!     I  will  depart 
Or  may  I  kiss  away  one  tear  that  dims  that  eye? 

Well !  —  well,  —  I    will    not    pain    thy    gentle 

heart ! 
But  Lady  weep  not!     Dearest  heart,  forgive! 

I  will  be  wise  (O  passionate  heart  be  still!) 
I  know  I  should  not  speak,  but  oh  I  live 

Only  for  thee,  —  and  ever,  ever  will 
My  love  endure!     Oh,  give  me  leave  to  rise 

Up  from  thy  feet  and  look  into  thine  eyes! 


13 

My  words  were  wild,  for  I  was  mad  with  love. 

She  trembled,  weeping  wildly,  stooping  low 
To  where  I  knelt  she  clasped  my  hand  and  strove 

To  lift  me,  —  murmuring  as  she  did  so,  "  Oh 
What  matters  it  beloved?     Wealth  or  fame? 

I  do  abhor  those  ideal  empty  things. 
Do  we  not  love?    Is  there  a  higher  claim 

Than  that  which  from  the  heart's  deep  fountain 


springs? 


73 


What  matters  it,  my  dearest  and  my  best,  — 

That  we  should  live  unnoticed  and  unknown? 
So  we  together  live  we  will  be  blest. 

With  thee  I'll  go!     I  cannot  be  alone! 
I  will  not  leave  thee !     Such  a  paradise 

Is  perfect  love,  earth's  pomps  will  be  forgot! 
And  I  will  live  for  thee  and  in  thine  eyes 

Find   my   heart's   heaven,  —  all   else  will   be   as 
naught!  " 


15 

I  clasped  her,  crying  fondly,  "  Love!     O  Love! 

And   wouldst   thou   from   thy   lofty   state   stoop 

down 
With  me  to  humbly  live  thy  love  to  prove? 

Oh,  now  in  truth  thou  dost  my  being  crown! 
But  no!     Oh,  no!  my  gracious  queen!  my  words 

Were   wild,  —  Forgive !     Oh,   one   more,  —  one 

more  kiss 
Beloved  on  lips  and  brow,  —  heaven  affords 

To  its  blest  saints,  no  deeper  joy  than  this,  — 


16 

Ah,  —  once  again,  —  again,  before  we  part  — 

Clasp  me,  and  make  me  thine,  as  mine  thou  art!  " 
A  footstep  startled  us.     She  whispered  "  Go,  — 

We'll  meet  again !  "     I  quickly  turned  and  passed 
From  thence.     Ah  me!     How  could  I  know 

It  was  of  all  our  happy  hours  the  last? 
But  so  it  was.     That  scene  was  but  the  seal 

Upon  the  tomb  of  hours  forever  fled, 
By  which,  like  some  soul  lost  to  heaven's  weal, 

Sad  Memory  sits,  and  weeps  the  lost  and  dead. 

74 


XI 


Next  morning's  Post  a  letter  brought  to  me 

Informing  me  —  in  words  suave  and  bland 
"  My  services  no  more  would  needed  be  — 

They  were  to  travel  in  a  foreign  land !  " 
Stunned  by  the  sudden  blow,  for  days  my  heart 

Seemed  smouldering  in  a  slow  consuming  fire: 
No  reasoning  could  of  joy  one  gleam  impart 

All  thought,  all  life  was  merged  in  the  desire  — 


To  see  her  face.     Through  hours  of  listless  pain 

And  hopelessness  I  brooded  day  by  day. 
Naught  I  desired  but  that,  —  and  to  live  again 

The  old  life  would  have  given  my  soul  away. 
Go  where  I  would  my  eyes  were  sick  to  see 

The  old  familiar  scenes,  —  the  park,  the  shore 
The  fount,  the  wood,  —  but  more,  oh  more  to  me 

The  lovelit  eyes  that  I  saw  never  more. 


I  traveled  then.     Yet  like  Dante  of  olden  time 

"  Looking    back    ever    and    ever,    with    eyes    of 

blinded  pain," 
My  ears  all  sick  to  hear  whate'er  the  scene  or  clime 

The  music  of  a  voice  I  ne'er  should  hear  again. 
Like  to  the  wounded  hare,  the  stricken  hind 

To  nature's  deepest  wilds  I  took  my  way 
Hoping  upon  her  breast  my  heart  might  find 

Some  healing  balm  that  would  its  pain  allay. 

75 


"  O  mother  Earth!  "  I  cried,  "  upon  thy  breast 

Thy  sad,  thy  weary,  heart-sick  children  holding 
And  in  thy  silent  arms  so  kind  and  blest 

Creation  vast  in  sympathy  infolding  — 
Who  with  thy  varied  gifts  so  richly  bless 

From  birth  till  death,  e'en  all  of  living  kind 
Oh  may  my  stricken  heart  in  its  distress 

Upon  thy  bosom,  peace  and  healing  find !  " 


Filled  with  a  wild  unrest  that  urged  me  on 

I  wandered  aimlessly  through  many  lands 
Through  pathless  wilds  and  forests  dense,  anon 

Bleak  icy  plains  —  and  burning  desert  sands. 
One  evening  found  me  climbing  the  ascent 

Steep,  water-worn,  of  a  high  mountain  range 
As  up  I  toiled,  swift  streams  and  foliage  lent 

Beauty  to  scenes  of  grandeur  wildly  strange. 


O'er  mountain  steep  and  high  the  rough  pass  wound 

'Mid  fragments  huge,  and  shaggy  chasms  deep 
Into  whose  depth  with  rushing,  roaring  sound 

White-foaming  cataracts  did  wildly  leap. 
O'er  rocks,  impetuous  torrents,  hurled  headlong 

Seeking  in  haste  the  green  and  flowery  vale; 
While  stony  caverns  echoing  did  prolong 

The  hollow  murmurs  of  the  rising  gale. 


I  mounted  bravely  up  the  rude  ascent 

Though  perilous  the  path,  and  wearisome 

For  to  me  came  "  The  victories  of  ascent 
And  joy  of  life  in  steepness  overcome." 
76 


Arrived  aloft  I  found  the  sunset  sheen 
Softly  enveiling  all  in  golden  light  — 

Around,  beneath  was  spread  so  fair  a  scene 
I  gazed  about  some  moments  with  delight. 

8 

An  upland  fair  spread  out  of  vast  expanse 

Where  valleys  green  branched   in  deep  winding 

ways ; 
Bright  gleams  of  water  did  the  eye  entrance 

Flashing  and  flaming  'neath  Sol's  westering  rays. 
Beneath  my  feet  the  mountain  ranges  spread, 

Enwrapped  in  forest  verdure,  —  fold  on  fold ; 
The  more  majestic  summits  o'er  my  head 

Alone  looked  down  from  heights  serene  and  cold. 


But  to  the  west !  —  O  how  they  towered  on  high ! — 

Mountains    against    mountains    seemingly    were 

hurled, 
Their  savage  peaks  like  spears  did  pierce  the  sky, 

The  jagged  crown  it  was  of  that  majestic  world. 
And  every  spire  and  peak  that  towered  there 

Bathed  in  the  sunset's  golden,  glowing  light 
Against  the  sky's  soft  amethystine  air 

Appeared  like  gold,  tinted  and  shining  bright. 

10 

And  all  was  still !     Around  no  sound  did  float 

Save  where  in  secret  depths  the  hid  cascades 
Gave  rippling  music,  —  or  the  strident  note 

Of  night  bird  rising  from  the  forest  shades; 
Then  as  a  shadow  vast,  slowly  the  night 

Descended.     Brightly  on  heaven's  etheric  plain 
I  saw  with  heart-enkindled  eyes  of  light 

The  crescent  moon  and  all  her  starry  train. 

77 


II 

How  beautiful!     With  joy  akin  to  pain 
I  gazed  upon  the  stars  that  seemed  to  scan 

With  eyes  of  trembling  pity,  the  benighted  vain 
Self-torturing  lot  of  feeble  mortal  man. 

'Poor    pensioner   of    the   hour'    (I    mused)    whose 

breath 

Is  like  the  mists  the  morning  suns  consume 
*  Swifter    than    arrow's   flight '    this    life  —  then 

death  - 
From  gloom  to  earthly  life,  from  thence  to  gloom. 


12 

Whither?    Who  knoweth?    Mute  are  the  heavenly 
spheres 

The  rocks  beneath  eternal  silence  keep; 
In  language  that  hath  no  interpreters  — 

Mysteriously — "Deep   calleth  unto   deep." 
The  world  stays  not,  and  none  may  stem  the  tide 

Of  time  that  to  eternity  doth  flow; 
Great  nations  rise  and  into  darkness  glide, 

Suns  rise  and  set,  and  seasons  come  and  go  — 


13 

And  ever,  and  all  —  not  only  this  great  sphere  — 

But  all  the  varied  lives  that  on  it  thrive  — 
Enwrapping  it  in  a  living  atmosphere 

Where     growth,     decline,     life,     death,     forever 
strive  — 

Doth  unto  law  unalterable  conform 
Inexorable  —  and  the  united  arm 

Of  all  the  living  races  could  not  turn 
From  its  fixed  course  one  star  of  all  that  swarm 

The  vault  above  and  in  bright  glory  burn. 
78 


No  thrilling  song  of  joy,  no  shriek  of  pain 

Sent  up  from  Life's  great  heart  through  all  the 

years 
Can  of  the  deathlike  silence  ear  attain 

As  she  sits  throned  among  the  shining  spheres. 
Face  to  face  with  those  stupendous  mountains 

Standing  in  deep  abstraction,  silent,  still 
Such    hopeless   views   troubled   my    thought's   clear 
fountains 

And  dark  dejection  did  my  being  fill. 


15 

"  Why  were  we  born  to  suffer?  "  I  asked  the  ques 
tion 

That  all  humanity  asks,  —  and  asks  in  vain ! 
"  Since  first  it  being  had  the  whole  creation 

With  groanings  deep,  travails  in  mortal  pain. 
"Alas!"  I  sighed,  "I  cannot  comprehend; 

Reason!     God-given,  —  I  will  of  thee  inquire?" 
"  He  that  created  shall  not  He  defend? 

The  finite  may  not  to  the  infinite  aspire! 


16 


Every  truthful  light  of  science  burning; 

Every  lofty  heaven-granted  power, 
Every  wise  brain,  hidden  truths  discerning, 

Do  they  not  clearly  teach  us  hour  by  hour 
That  within  the  world  around,  beneath  us 

As  within  the  heaven  high  above 
There  is  one  continual  living  presence 

Of  almighty  help,  and  peace,  and  love? 

79 


And  conscience,  —  that  clear  flame  forever  bright! 

God's  image,  —  his  oracle  in  the  breast  — 
Proving  its  truth  by  its  intrinsic  light :  — 

Bear  witness  of  that  light,  O  soul!  and  rest!  " 
Great  visions  then  assailed  my  tranced  mind 

I  felt  the  pulse  of  that  immortal  life 
Which  pours  its  flood  through  all  of  living  kind ; 
And  those  high  heavenly  harmonies  divined 

To  which  creation  moves  beyond  all  strife. 

18 

Ne'er  had  I  Nature  known  until  that  hour 

That  she  was  One,  my  mother,  and  divine; 
Not  dead  the  earth  but  filled  with  living  power 

Whose  spirit  held  communion  deep  with  mine. 
And  all  around  the  glory  of  a  day 

Fairer  than  mankind  hath  ever  known 
Through  lightening  shadows  of  an  orient  gray 

With  promise  of  sure  coming,  softly  shone. 

19 

Though  nature   (upward  striving)   sore  travails 

And  from  dark  ills  to  be  delivered  groans 
Until  God's  breath  of  love  (which  e'er  prevails) 

Shall  from  his  everlasting  throne  of  thrones 
Proceed  and  kindle  upon  the  Phoenix  fire 

Out  of  which  the  "  New  heaven  and  New  earth  " 
As  gold  seven  times  refined  shall  aspire 

And  man  shall  live  a  life  of  highest  worth. 

20 

The  spell  was  broken  by  the  sound 

Of  carriage  wheels  that  up  the  stony  pass 

Did  slowly  climb,  to  where  in  thought  profound 
I  dimly  stood  beneath  a  towering  mass 
80 


Of  rock.     It  was  a  gay  barouch-and-fouf 
Familiar  was  the  livery  on  the  forms 

Of  servants  and  outriders  —  on  the  door 
Engilded  was  my  patron's  coat-of-arms ! 

21 

Few    moments    driving    brought    them    near.      O 
heaven ! 

Through  the  dim  light  I  saw  my  Lady's  face! 
Yes,  she  herself !  —  to  none  else  had  been  given 

On  earth  beneath  such  loveliness  and  grace! 
With  slight,  unknowing  bow  they  onward  sped, 

Perchance  to  joy,  —  to  love  —  to  all  delight, 
And  I  ?     Cold,  cold,  and  ghastly  round  my  head 

And  in  my  heart  gathered  the  shades  of  night ! 

22 

Ah,  only  those  whose  heart,  as  mine,  have  known 

The  sickening  weariness  of  vain  desire, 
Heart-hunger  unappeased,  to  famine  grown; 

And  hopes  that  ever  hopelessly  expire 
Can  understand  the  anguish  past  control 

When  having  seen  the  one  so  ardently 
And  long  desired,  thus  near  me  —  O  my  soul, 

I  could  have  touched  her !  —  to  find  she  knew  not 


me 


23 

Like  one  distraught  I  stood  until  the  sound 

Of  the  receding  wheels  died  on  my  ear 
Then  as  if  smitten,  prone  upon  the  ground 

I  fell  and  grovelled  in  my  deep  despair. 
Until  my  manhood  rose  up  angrily 

Crying   "Vain    is   love   that   feeds   on   shadows! 

Vain 
A  life  self-centered !     Arise,  look  out  and  see 

Broad  fields  white  to  the  harvest  that  have  lain 
81 


24 

Unreaped!     Why  stand  ye  idle  all  the  day? 

Arise !  go  forth !  for  soon  the  void  dark  night 
Of  death,  doth  hasten  on  its  way! 

To  work!  to  work!     While  yet  thou  hast  life's 

light." 
Like  Jacob,  wrestled  I,  till  break  of  day 

For  strength  and  peace.     Sternly  determined  then 
Down  from  the  mountain  heights  I  took  my  way 

And  sought  once  more  the  busy  haunts  of  men. 


25 

Amid  the  throng,  —  where  men  like  eagles  whet 

Their  beaks,  to  rend  the  weak  for  greed  of  gain 
I  madly  plunged,  and  struggled  to  forget 

The  past,  but  ah,  alas!  'twas  all  in  vain! 
For  'twas  her  voice  that  whispered  in  each  breeze 

And  as  sunlight  where  water  darkliest  gleams 
Her  eyes,  her  smiles,  —  bright  as  the  starlit  seas 

Haunted  my  days  and  mingled  in  my  dreams. 


26 

Yet  ever  I  worked,   and   fame,   and   wealth  were 

mine ; 

How  worthless  to  me  weak  and  stricken  sore 
By  fell  disease!     At  last  there  came  a  time 

(I  had  but  late  returned  from  foreign  clime, 
And  learned  that  she  was  at  the  Hall  once  more) 
When    love,    so    long    repressed,    could    bear   no 

more. 

"  I  must,  —  I  will  —  I  wildly  cried  one  day 
Go  to  her  home,  and  sing  one  last  sad  song 
Ere  death  be  mine,  as  when  swift  ebbs  away 
His  life,  the  swan's  notes  shrilleth  strong! 
82 


27 

"At  night  when  all  the  winds  are  breathing  low 

My  every  thought  from  all  save  her  apart 
Beneath  her  window  will  I  softly  go. 

That  song  perchance  may  ease  my  aching  heart." 
Fair  was  that  night,  and  brightly  all  illum'ed 

By  moon  and  stars,  shining  in  heaven  above 
Sweet  flowers,  dew-ladened,  all  the  air  perfumed  — 

Too  sweet  a  time,  for  sighs  of  hopeless  love! 
I  heard  afar,  with  deep  and  mournful  sound 

The  breakers  roar  as  if  in  grief  profound. 


XII 


I  stood  beneath  her  window,  murmuring  low 

"  She  softly,  gently  sleeps,  my  love!  my  sweet! 
And  in  her  peaceful  slumbers  cannot  know 

Where  love  tonight  has  led  my  weary  feet; 
Thus  her  untrammeled  soul  can  answer  free 

The  messages  that  mine  to  hers  would  bring 
And  through  blest  power  of  music's  ministry 

In  sweet  communion  will  our  souls  upspring." 


I  touched  my  lute,  the  soft  strains  seemed  to  rise 
As  did  my  burning  thoughts  and  upward  sprung 

As  if  they  fain  would  reach  the  glittering  skies 
And  mingle  with  the  quiring  spheres.     I  sung:  — 


Night  slowly,  sadly  falls 

Through  ether,  darkly  blue, 
Of  twilight  skies,  like  pitying  eyes 

Stars  tremble  into  view: 
Day  dies  and  tears  of  Earth  bereft 

Distill  in  heavy  dew. 
Oh,  weep  with  her  for  love  is  gone 
And  night  without  a  star  comes  on! 
(Hark!  how  the  wild  waves  sadly  moan!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


Lights  glimmer  on  the  land, 

And  ship-lights  twinkling  glow; 

Bright  stars  above  look  down  in  love 
On  land  and  sea  below: 

But  thou  —  thou  lookest  not  on  me 
Standing  in  lonely  woe 

Beneath  thy  window  casement,  sweet, 

Where  love  hath  led  my  wandering  feet. 

(Hark!     How  the  waves  in  sorrow  greet!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


Lo!     The  calm  moon  comes  forth! 

By  breezes  softly  blown 
Comes  sweet  perfume,  from  plants  abloom 

To  me  as  I  stand  alone ; 
And  the  moon's  pale  light,  on  the  turret's  height 

Like  a  silver  veil  is  thrown : 
But  the  shadows  beneath  are  as  dark  as  death, 
And  the  flowers  may  have  the  upas  breath. 
(Hark!     How  the  waves  moan  as  in  death!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 
84 


The  sea  beats  wearily 

Upon  the  yellow  sand, 
And  murmuring  low  the  sad  waves  flow 

Towards  some  far-off  strand  — 
Or  sobbing  in  despair  they  throw 

Themselves  against  the  land, 
Then  rushing  swiftly  back  again 
They  whisper  hoarsely,  as  in  pain : 
(Hark!     How  they  sob  as  they  complain!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


Why  do  the  restless  waves 

Forevermore  complain? 
What  is  the  song  that  all  day  long 

They  sing  —  a  wild  refrain  ?  — 
The  sad,  sad  song,  that  breathes  of  wrong 

And  sobs  like  a  heart  in  pain. 
'Tis  a  song  of  grief,  —  of  mad  desires 
Of  hope  that  in  despair  expires 
(Hark,  how  their  song  in  grief  suspires!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


O  'twas  a  mad,  mad  thing 

To  love  a  queen  so  high !  - 
A  queen  whose  light  makes  heaven  bright 

And  all  the  stars  outvie, 
That  pale  with  fear  as  they  come  near 

Her  throne  in  heaven  high. 
Ocean  beheld  her  clear  beams  falling 
In  days  of  Eld  his  heart  enthralling. 
(Hark!  now  his  voice  is  loudly  calling.) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 

85 


7 

He  lifts  himself  tow'rds  heaven 

Where  she  sits  with  her  starry  train 

And  suppliant  stands  with  foam-flecked  hands 
Then  falls  in  despairing  pain 

And  breaks  on  the  shore  in  wild  uproar 
His  spray  tears  fall  like  rain. 

But  the  moon  heeds  not,  for  her  love  is  given 

To  the  orb  she  pursues  through  the  shining  heaven. 

(Hark!  how  the  waves  flee  passion-driven) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


8 

O  moon!     O  queen  of  mine! 

My  heart's  the  raging  sea 
Within  my  breast  that  hath  no  rest 

That  reaches  up  to  thee 
With  longings  deep  that  never  sleep 

Forever  sighs  for  thee  — 
Clings  to  thy  memory  till  death 
Shall  stop  this  feeble,  fluttering  breath! 
(Hark  thou  to  what  its  passion  saith!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


Mine  eyes  fail  for  thy  light 

And  oh,  for  evermore! 
Like  to  the  waves  that  shore  sand  laves 

That  break  in  wild  uproar 
Are  all  my  thoughts  that  ever  flow 

To  thee  their  golden  shore  — 
Ever  to  thee  their  shore  and  there 
Break  into  murmuring  despair 
(Hark  how  their  sad  plaint  fills  the  air!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 
86 


IO 


My  face  is  white  and  cold 

As  the  dead  in  the  graves  below; 

My  heart  —  as  with  a  poisoned  dart 
Is  wasted  with  my  woe; 

In  every  place  I  see  thy  face 
Like  a  phantom  come  and  go. 

And  when  at  night  the  wild  winds  blow 

Alone  I  wander  to  and  fro. 

(Hark!  how  the  waves  all  wildly  flow!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


II 

I  cry  aloud,  but  none, 

None  hear  my  bitter  cries; 
Like  to  the  flood,  the  tears  of  blood 

Up  from  my  heart  arise 
Alone  with  sorrow,  and  the  night 

Am  I  beneath  the  skies. 
And  when  I  fain  would  rest  in  sleep 
What  lonely  visions  round  me  creep! 
(Hark!  how  the  waves  moan  loud  and  deep!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


12 

0  loved!     O  lost!  wert  thou 
Dead,  lying  in  thy  grave 

1  would  gladly  go  where  thou  liest  low 
A  rest  by  thy  side  to  crave 

And  the  darksome  tomb  a  holy  room 

Would  be  as  a  temple's  nave. 
But  thou,  love,  art  resting  in  happy  sleep 
And  softly  dream  —  while  I  weep  —  while  I  weep. 
(Hark!  how  the  waves  their  sad  songs  keep!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 

87 


13 

Yet  what  hast  them  to  do 

With  looking  from  thy  height 

On  one  who  sings  woes  ministerings 
Through  lonely  hours  of  night? 

Thy  lofty  place  the  courts  of  kings 
Where  pride  and  pomp  unite. 

Yet  I  know  that  steadfast  heart  of  thine 

Still  bears  the  mark  impressed  by  mine. 

(Hark!  how  the  waves  in  murmurs  pine!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


For  love  our  souls  are  One 

Beyond  e'en  death's  control 
Linked  by  this  bond,  in  worlds  beyond 

One  with  thy  love  my  soul 
Will  be  for  aye  as  mine  with  thine 

While  endless  ages  roll. 
O  cursed  pride  and  rank  that  stood 
Between  two  hearts  of  kindred  mood! 
Thy  hire  will  be  the  price  of  blood. 
(Hark!  how  the  waves  roar  at  their  flood!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 

15 

Soon  my  poor  life  will  end 

For  when  the  nights  are  long 
And  I  wander  far,  sometimes  I  hear 
God's  voice  so  soft,  yet  strong  — 
"  Sounds  heard  as  light,*  then  all  the  night 

Is  filled  with  voiceless  song, 
And  a  wrhisper  breathes  "  Enough,  come  in, 
Through  death  the  perfect  life  to  win." 
(Hark  to  the  wave's  soft  ceaseless  din!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


Swinburne. 

88 


i6 

And  when  at  last  I  lie 

In  my  still,  narrow  home 
Cold,  cold  and  dead,  —  alone  with  the  dead 

Each  in  his  quiet  tomb  — 
If  at  times  thy  ear  should  faintly  hear,  — 

When  stars  doth  night  illume 
The  sound  of  a  song,  or  a  lute  blown  along 

Soft  as  when  winds  resume 
On  some  spring  day  the  marriage  lay 

Of  bride-white  flowers  abloom 
Mine  is  the  voice  thou  hearest  sing 
And  mine  is  the  hand  that  sweeps  the  string. 
(Hark  to  the  waves'  sad  murmuring!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


17 

And  if  in  the  turf  that  forms 

My  grave's  green  covering 
Above  my  bosom,  a  pale,  pale  blossom 

Some  day  thou  seest  upspring  — 
Lay  there  thy  lips,  —  'tis  my  soul  that  awaits 

Thy  love's  sweet  offering: 

And  though  centuries  dead  my  brow  would  feel 
Through  the  earth  thy  soft  warm  kisses  steal. 
(Hark!  how  the  sea  to  the  moon  doth  appeal!) 
Caroline,  Caroline. 


18 

Yet  rest  thee,  rest  thee,  love! 

The  moon  is  shining  bright; 
Its  beams  through  leaves,  blown  by  the  breeze 

Falls  in  soft  dancing  light. 
God  guard  and  keep  thee,  heart  of  mine, 

Through  all  the  hours  of  night, 
And  happy,  holy  dreams  be  thine 


Breathed  in  thy  soul  by  love  divine! 

My  love,  my  heart,  good  night! 


Was  I  awake  or  dreaming?     I  did  not  know. 
I  seem  to  feel  e'en  now  the  wondering  thrill 

As  when  I  saw  her  window  move,  —  and  lo ! 
As  some  fair  spirit,  pale  and  white  and  still 
There  stood  my  Lady,  and  albeit  I 
Heard  not  an  uttered  word,  yet  well  I  knew 

"  Farewell  "  was  on  her  lip  and  in  her  eye, 
Her  silent,  unexpected,  last  adieu. 


She  stood  a  moment  thus,  then  silently 

Drew  down  the  blind,  and  as  she  did  so  there 
Fell  at  my  feet  that  note  which  thou  didst  see 

Wrapped    round    that   treasured   curl    of    golden 

hair. 
As  one  that  stands  at  solemn  hour  at  eve 

Beside  the  grave  of  some  beloved  dead 
And  hears  a  voice,  —  'twas  thus  I  did  receive 

That    note    and    curl.     Trembling    with    joy    I 
read :  — 


"  When  from  thee  in  sad  haste  I  moved 

That  morning,  all  in  tears, 
I  did  not,  —  could  not  think,  beloved, 

We  should  not  meet  for  years  — 
Nor  for  long  years  should  hear  again 
Thy  music's  sweet  soul-thrilling  strain! 
90 


I  scarcely  knew  until  the  hour 
They  said  that  we  must  part 

The  secret  of  the  subtle  power 
That  drew  to  thine  my  heart: 

Nor  knew  till  then  'twas  love  that  there 

Had  made  that  summertime  so  fair. 


Alas  that  pride  of  place  and  blood 

Forbade  us  more  to  meet! 
How  dear  those  looks  half  understood 

By  danger  made  more  sweet ;  — 
Thine  eyes  with  such  a  plaintive  shine 
Fixed  with  such  a  pleading  look  on  mine! 


As  lightning  from  clear  skies,  the  blow 
That  parted  thee  from  me: 

Nor  cared  what  land  they  bore  me  to 
I  knew  it  held  not  thee. 

Bleeding  where  pride  had  torn  apart 

The  links  that  bound  me  to  thy  heart. 


0  weary  struggles!     Lonely  years  — 
In  which  to  still  the  pain 

1  strove.     (Vain  task!     E'en  now  my  tears 
Fall  like  the  summer  rain!) 

How  slowly  passed  each  day,  each  night 
In  lonely  longings  infinite! 


They  say  I  err,  —  yet  it  seems  to  me 
Higher  than  rank  above 


Are  days  of  uncrowned  majesty 

That  touch  the  lofty  goal  where  love 
And  duty  wreathes  in  loveliness 
E'en  poverty's  stern  barrenness. 


And  though  Rank  scorn  it  is  my  pride 

Thy  love  was  given  to  me 
And  faithful  still  whate'er  betide 

Through  life  will  think  of  thee. 
While  years  have  passed  since  to  the  Hall 
We  came  again  how  plainly  all 
Its  scenes  thy  presence  doth  recall! 


8 

The  music  room  where  oft  we  sang 

Speaks  to  my  heart  of  thee; 
The  mountain  steep  which  up  we  sprang ;- 

The   fountain   flowing   free,  — 
Groves  where  the  flowers  in  myrtle  hidden 
Breathed  odors  sweet  as  those  of  Eden. 


The  rocks  we  clambered  o'er  at  eve 

To  see  the  waves  beyond ; 
Woods  where  great  trees  boughs  interweave 

Where  summer  airs  despond ; 
Where  nature  wove  her  sweetest  spell 
In  every  grove  and  shady  dell. 


10 

And  all  those  long,  long,   golden  hours 
We  sat  together  there! 

92 


Where  breezes  soft  perfumed  by  flowers 

Seemed  some  diviner  air! 
Alas!     Each  breeze  doth  now  recall 
Those  hours,   those  sighs  memorial. 

ii 

But  Oh,  how  each  and  every  scene 

Still  dear  to  me  remain! 
I  cannot  bear  one  thought  to  wean 

E'en  though  the  thought  brings  pain. 
And  oft  I  wander  o'er  the  lea 
But  ah,  not  now,  as  then,  with  thee! 

12 

The  birds  within  the  park's  deep  wood 

Still  sing  as  on  I  pass, 
But  now  my  footsteps  as  my  mood 

Fall  silent  on  the  grass; 
And  though  around  are  beauteous  forms 
Alone,  they  have  for  me  no  charms. 

13 

What  shall  I  say  my  soul's  sole  friend 
Of  thy  ne'er  forgotten  song? 

Its  memory  cheered  me,  and  did  lend 
Joy  to  days  sad  and  long: 

How  sweet  that  hour!     The  wish  is  vain, 

But  oh,  to  live  it  o'er  again  ! 


Yes,  now  deep  feeling  thrills  my  strains 
Fresh  from  my  bleeding  heart, 

For  Grief  and  Pain  dread  powers  twain 
Are  of  my  life  a  part. 

Those  masters  stern  and  hard  who  long 

Ago  taught  thee  the  power  of  song. 

93 


Beloved,  we  may  not  meet  again 
But  those  warm  looks  last  seen 

Will  ever  in  my  heart  remain, 
By  love  kept  ever  green  ; 

How  hard  to  think  that  they  have  been 

To  ne'er  be  seen  by  me  again! 

16 

But  wheresoever  my  footsteps  roam 

Whatever  clime  or  sea, 
Or  in  what  place  may  be  my  home 

Still  will  I  ever  be 

Through  all  the  hours  that  time  may  lend 
Ever,  as  now,  thy  truest  friend. 

17 

And  when  life's  fleeting  day  shall  end 

Our  souls  unveiled  shall  prove 
When  spirit  doth  with  spirit  blend 

Immortal  is  such  love 
And  purified,  —  a  perfect  whole 

Doth  reawaken  with  the  soul; 
Until  that  meeting  most  divine 

May  God  be  with  you, 

Caroline." 


With  tearful  eyes  I  read,  and  read  again 
This  fond  confession  of  her  faithful  heart. 

I  pressed  it  to  my  lips,  —  my  heart,  —  nor  then 
Nor  now,  —  nor  ever  will  it  from  me  part ! 

How    oft    those    words    have    darkened    hours    il- 

lum'ned ! 
Thou  seest  the  page  with  usage  torn  and  curled 

94 


Oh,  place  it,  friend,  beside  me  in  the  tomb  — 
My  dear  love-note,  unhoped-for  in  this  world! 


How  often  —  oh  how  often  have  my  tears 

Blurred  all  the  letters  of  these  cherished  rhymes! 
And  this  fair  tress  —  through  all  the  dreary  years 

I've  kissed  it,  friend  —  how  many  hundred  times! 
Though  words  are  vain  and  all  too  poor  to  tell 

How  dear  her  love  so  fully,  freely  given 
Yet  still  my  longing  heart  would  madly  dwell 

On  closer  bonds.     I  cried  "  O  would  that  heaven 


Had  nearer  to  my  level  made  her  be." 

But  if  I  could,  would  I  have  dragged  her  down 
From  the  high  station  she  adorned,  with  me 

To  humbly  live  ?     Never !     My  star,  my  crown ! 
But  I  was  human,  and  ever  were  haunting  me 

Sweet  thoughts  of  her  as  friend,  companion,  — 

wife ; 
Though  well  I  knew  that  could  never  be, 

Such  heaven-on-earth  was  not  for  my  poor  life. 


8 

But  I  have  lived,  and  have  not  lived  in  vain 

Since  in  her  heart  she  bears  my  memory, 
And  our  twin-souls  are  linked,  as  with  a  chain 

In  never-dying,   heaven-born  sympathy. 
Such  immaterial  love  lives  endlessly 

For  it  is  heavenly  born  and  cannot  die. 
"  The  marriage  of  true  minds  "  's  a  unity 

Begun  on  earth,  lives  through  eternity 

95 


With  its  supernal  Source,  whose  law  divine 

Throughout  all  nature  seeks  the  perfect  whole  — 
Bidding  each  atom  with  like  atom  join 

Moving  each  soul  to  seek  its  kindred  soul. 
Mysterious  agency!     Through  all  creation  — 

Unknown,  —  unknowable  —  yet  every  hour 
Working  in  secret.     Love,  gravitation, 

Whate'er   the   name  —  moves   all   things   by   its 
power. 

10 

Naught   is   too   small,  —  from   seeds   it   draws  the 

flower ; 
Naught    is    too    great  —  oceans    to'ards    orbs   of 

light; 
Celestial  spheres  obey  this  wondrous  power 

Which  lives  and  works  beyond  all  mortal  sight, 
Though    hand    touch   hand,   and    friendship   warm 

diffuse 

Its  genial  glow,  —  yea  heart  may  heart  accept 
Yet  each  soul  from  all  others  still  doth  choose 
With  wisdom  mute  its  fellowship  elect. 

ii 

I've  done.     Adieu  my  faithful  friend  most  dear, 

I  know  how  true  to  memory  thou'lt  remain 
But  when  I  pass  from  earth,  drop  thou  no  tear, 

We  only  part  a  space  to  meet  again. 
In  some  fair  region,  freed  from  evil's  thrall 

A  fuller  life  we'll  win  —  a  life  more  blest 
Joined  in  ecstatic  union  with  the  All-in-all 

In  the  ineffable  forever  rest. 


Powell,  Mar 

y  Elizabeth 

P885 

dy 

The  dying 

musician 

/ 

M191S61 


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